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ROBIN'S    RECRUIT. 


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Robins 


Recruit.  m.^y 


BY 

A.  G.  PLYMPTON, 

AUTHOR    OF 

■'Dear  Daughter  Dorothy,"''   "'Betty,  a 

Butterfly,''  "  The  Little  Sister 

of  Wilifredr 


Hlustratcti  62  tijc  'lutljor. 


BOSTON: 
ROBERTS     BROTHERS. 
1893. 


Copyright,  1893, 
By  a.  G.  Plympton, 


^ntbfrsttg  Press: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


m4- 


!      DEDICATED 


WILLi(aM,  /VERNON   CHICKERING   RUXTON. 


ivi637318 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  Page 

I.     Robin 9 

II.     Among  the  Rose-bushes 24 

III.  The   Accident 43 

IV.  An  Impatient  Patient 63 

V.     On  the  Chaparral 76 

VI.     A  Sad  Birthday 92 

VII.     Doogan's  Story in 

VIII.     Early  Experiences 129 

IX.  A  Deserting  Soldier    .,.,,.    145 

X.     Danger 158 

XI.     Conclusion 176 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

♦ 

Page 
"  Ride  straight  round  once,  young  Man  "      Frontispiece 

Doogan 9 

"  I  think  you  have  the  loveliest  Eyes  of  any  Lady 

in  the  Regiment  " 28 

Susannah 31 

Sergeant  Corrigan's  House  in  Soapsuds  Row      .  44 

By  the  Creek 47 

Bob  Corrigan  .,.....,.,..  48 

"  It  was  just  at  Guard  mount  " 64 

"  Being  wheeled  about  the  Post " 78 

"  I   ain't  going  to  have  any  Man  sprawling  on 

the  Parade-ground,  picking  Flowers  for  7ne  "  90 

"  He  had  laid  his  Head  on  his  Arms,  trying  to 

hide  his  Mortification  " loi 

'-  Was  enough  to  make  one's  best  Friend  wince  "  104 

'•  Sitting  by  the  disused  Blacksmith  's  Shop  "      .114 

"  Doogan  sat  moodily  by  himself  on  the  Barrack 

Porch  "' 146 

"  It  made  her  Heart  ache  to  look  at  this  little, 
quiet   Shadow  of    her    once   active,    rugged 

Boy" 161 


ROBIN'S    RECRUIT, 


CHAPTER    I. 


ROBIN. 


VrOBODY     ever 
could  tell  why 
Robin  cared  so  much 
for  Doogan.     Every 
one  else  at  Fort  Ca- 
rey had  a   bad  word 
for   the    young 
>-^.    soldier,    and    it 
must  be  admit- 
ted   that   there 
'^ //'/y  were  many  glar- 

DooGAN.  ing   defects    in 

his  character. 
"  He  s   got  a  hard  face  on  him,  and 

a   terrible   vicious   eye,"    said    Sergeant 


lo  Robins  Recruit, 

Corrigan    to    the     captain.     "  I    reckon 
he  '11    prove    troublesome." 

But  let  us  begin  at  the  very  beginning, 
on  the  morning  when  Robin  first  saw 
Doogan  among   the    recruits. 

The  children  were  standing  near  the 
building  called  headquarters,  which 
fronted  the  north  side  of  the  parade- 
p-round.  Guard-mount  was  just  over, 
and  the  bugler's  last  notes  were  piercing 
the  air  as  the  bandsmen  marched  away 
to  their  quarters.  Some  recruits  who 
had  been  brought  to  Fort  Carey  the 
previous  night  were  now  waiting  at 
headquarters  to  be  assigned  to  the 
different  companies,  and  the  children 
were  discussing  the  appearance  of  the 
men. 

"  I  choose  that  big  one  at  the  end  of 
the  line,"  said  Robin ;  "  I  hope  he  '11 
belong  to  B  Company." 


Robin.  1 1 

*'  Why,  that  man  is  the  scrubbiest  of 
the  whole  lot.  I  would  n't  choose  him^,' 
said  Arnold.     "  He  looks  horrid." 

The  other  children  agreed  with 
Arnold,  who    went    on,  — 

"  See  what  an  ugly  red  face  he  has ; 
and  when  he  scowls  —  there,  see,  he  is 
scowling  now  at  the  orderly.     He  's  no 


good." 


"  Perhaps  the  orderly  has  done  some- 
thing that  ought  to  be  scowled  at.  I  'm 
sure  that  recruit  is  a  first-rate  fellow. 
Just  see  how  straight  and  tall  he  is, — 
makes  the  others  look  like  dwarfs.  My, 
but  he  is  strong,  though!  I  tell  you, 
Arnold,  he  looks  like  poor  Brown,  that 
got  killed  fighting  Indians  when  we 
were  out  in  Dakota.  Yes,  sir;  this 
recruit  is  splendid  and  strong  and  big 
and   brave,  just   like    Brown." 

In  his  earnestness  Robin's  voice  rose 


12  Robins  Recruit. 

hio"h.  The  little  fellow  was  carried 
away  by  his  enthusiasm  ;  and  the  more 
he  talked,  the  more  he  admired  the 
young  recruit,  whose  splendid  physique 
had  caught  his  boyish  fancy.  Having 
no  better  material,  Robin  could  always 
make  heroes  out  of  very  common  clay, 
for  heroes  to  worship  was  a  necessity  of 
his  nature.  He  saw  virtues  more  easily 
than  faults,  and  he  clung  to  his  own 
generous  opinion  against  that  of  colder 
and  more  experienced  persons.  It  may 
be  that  with  his  warm,  loving  heart  he 
discovered  many  truths  these  sharp 
people    missed. 

The  little  squad  of  men,  of  whom 
Robin's  recruit  formed  one,  were  now 
being  marched  away  to  the  soldiers' 
barracks,  and  presently  turned  in  to 
the  last  one  of  the  row.  These  were 
the    quarters   of   Company   B,  of  which 


Robin.  1 3 

Robin's  father  was  captain,  and  which 
Robin  called  his. 

"  Well,  my  father  will  have  one  good 
one  this  time.  He  says  the  worst  ones 
usually  fall  to  him,"  said  Robin,  and 
after   a   pause    he    went  on,  — 

"  I  wonder  how  those  men  like  the 
looks  of  Texas.  They  came  from  New 
York,  you  know.  It 's  sort  of  different 
here."  He  looked  reflectively  over  the 
landscape,  with  its  stretches  of  scraggy 
plains  lying  so  quiet  and  featureless 
under  a  wide  blue  sky,  while  at  the 
same  time  memory  called  up  the  picture 
of  the  great  city  which  he  had  once 
visited.  "  I  wonder  if  they  know  how 
hot    it 's   going   to    be." 

"  And  about  the  tarantulas,"  said 
Arnold ;  "  my  cousin  never  saw  one  till 
she  came  here." 

"  And  the  rattlesnakes." 


14  Robins  Recruit. 

^  "  And  the  centipedes,"  cried  the 
children,    in    an    alarming    chorus. 

"  We  had  a  centipede  in  our  house 
yesterday,"  cried  Edith,  with  a  touch 
of  pride  in  her  shrill  little  voice.  "  It 
was  a  big  one,  and  I  helped  kill  .it.  I 
jumped  round  and  screamed  as  loud 
as  I  could  while  Hannah  orot  the  tea- 
kettle  and  poured  boiling  water  on  it. 
It  curled  right  up  and  died  then,  and 
I  took  it  out  on  a  shovel.  I  w^as  n't  a 
bit   afraid." 

There  were  no  comments  made  on 
Edith's  bravery,  for  just  at  that  moment 
the  children  caught  a  glimpse  of  Lieu- 
tenant Hall  on  his  pretty  black  horse  at 
the  other  end  of  the  long  line  of  houses 
where  the  families  of  the  officers  lived. 
Sometimes  this  amiable  young  man  took 
the  children  in  turns  for  a  canter  around 
the  parade-ground,  so  at  sight  of   him 


Robin.  1 5 

there  was  a  simultaneous  rush  of  little 
trousered  legs  and  a  flutter  of  white 
frocks.  Robin  made  a  movement  as  if 
he  would  follow  them,  but  finally  sat 
down   on    the    parade-ground. 

He  was  a  beautiful  boy,  with  soft  dark 
eyes  that  sometimes  flashed  gloriously, 
and  a  clear  skin  through  which,  when 
he  was  much  moved,  the  hot  color 
always  burned.  His  head  was  covered 
with  short  brown  curls  that  now  in  the 
brig^ht  sunshine  shone  s^olden.  As  a 
little  child  he  had  been  remarkable  for 
strength  and  spirit.  The  men  of  Com- 
pany B  told  many  a  tale  of  those  wild 
days  in  the  Indian  country,  when  at  the 
age  of  three  he  had  first  joined  them : 
how  at  four  o'clock  every  morning  at 
reveille,  his  name  being  called  by  the 
sergeant,  the  little  fellow  would  be  in  his 
place  at  the  end  of  the  line,  —  Private 


1 6  Robins  Recruit, 

Clancy,  with  figure  erect,  head  up,  and 
serious,  stolid  face.  On  pay-day  he  was 
paid  regularly  with  the  men,  —  five 
cents  from  the  paymaster's  own  pocket. 
Once,  —  this  was  a  favorite  anecdote  in 
B  Company,  —  when  the  men  were 
being  vaccinated,  the  soft  baby  arm  of 
Master  Robin  was  presented  in  turn 
with  the  brawny  arms  of  the  soldiers, 
and  he  would  not  go  away  until  he  had 
shared    this    duty. 

But  while  this  child's  play  was 
allowed  at  that  little  two-company  post 
where  Captain  Clancy  was  then  stationed, 
in  the  large  garrison  at  Fort  Carey,  with 
stern  old  Colonel  Bisby  commanding, 
no  such  unmilitary  performances  were 
possible.  The  men  were  very  sorry  for 
Robin,  who  used  frequently  to  go  down 
to  the  barracks  and  bewail  his  expulsion 
from    the    ranks,  but    in   reality  he    no 


Robin,  I  n 

longer    had    the    strength    to    bear    his 
former  self-imposed  hardships;  whether 
in  his  ambition  to  perform  all  a  soldier's 
duty  he  had   overtaxed    himself  at  the 
old  post,  or  whether  the  hot  Texas  sun 
was  enfeebling  his  blood,  which  in  the 
clear,    cold   air    of    the    northwest    had 
danced  so  joyously  through  his  veins,  or 
whether  too  many  thoughts  were  hum- 
ming  through   his    little    head,    no    one 
knew,  but  it  was  clear  that   Robin   was 
growing    more     delicate     in    spirit     and 
body.      Each  morning,  awakened  bv  the 
morning  gun  which  is  fired  at  the  first 
note  of  reveille,  he  would  start   up  as  if 
to  obey  the  call,  and  wistfully  follow  the 
notes  of    the  buglers   marching  around 
the  garrison,  and    then   with  a  sio-h    of 
relief  would  drop  his  head  again   upon 
the    pillow. 


i8 


Robins  Recruit. 


REVEILLE. 


Quick. 


't  get  'em  up, 


I    can't  get  'em  up, 


an't  get  'em  up  this  morning ;  I  can't  get  'em  up, 

End- 


End. 

=fE&=P^p=3^ESE3 


can't  get  'em  up,    I    can't  get  'em  up    at      all. 

^_rirr^ 


The  corp'ral  is  worse  than  the  pri  -  vate.  The 

jreant 's  worse  than  the  cor    -  p 
lieut.  's  worse  than     the        ser  -  geant,  And  the 


.  Robin.  19 

Directly  opposite  that  part  of  the 
parade-ground  where  Robin  sat,  the 
major's  wife  was  talking  to  the  doctor; 
and  as  the  children  scampered  past 
them    along    the    line,  she     said, — 

"  Do  look  at  Robin  Clancy  ;  I  wonder 
what  does  make  him  so  lanofuid." 

"  Well,  you  know,  dear  little  Mrs. 
Clancy  has  n't  an  idea  how  to  bring  up 
a  child,"  joined  in  Mrs.  Merton,  who  was 
leaning  over  her  gate.  "  I  dined  there 
yesterday,  and  Robin  was  allowed  to 
have  fried  oysters,  plum-cake,  cheese, 
and  coffee ;  and  when  in  the  evening  he 
was  sick  his  mother  said  to  Susannah : 
'  There  now,  Susannah,  I  knew  he 
would  be  sick  when  I  saw  you  o-ivino- 
him  that  cold  water'  '^ 

The  doctor  laughed,  and  then  raising 
his  cap  to  the  two  ladies,  crossed  over 
to  where  Robin  still  sat. 

"  Well,  little  man,"  he  said,  stooping 


20  Robins  Recruit, 

down  by   the  child's   side,  "  did  n't  you 
want  to  go  with  the  other  children? " 

"  Why,  yes,"  answered  Robin,  "  /  did, 
but  my  legs  did  n't.  They  are  awful 
lazy  feeling  somehow  lately,  but  I  won't 
stand  it.  I  'm  going  to  begin  now,  and 
make  'em  go.   That 's  what  legs  are  forr 

"  Well,  I  would  n't  be  too  severe," 
said  the  doctor.  "  I  think  they  ought 
to  be  indulged  just  now,  and  have  plenty 
of  rest."  But  this  advice  roused  all 
Robin's  boyish  impatience. 

"  They  are  my  legs,  and  I  say  they 
shall  go,"  he  said  rather  crossly. 

The  doctor  only  smiled  in  response 
to  Robin's  vehemence,  and  dropping  the 
irritating  subject,  inquired  if  he  took  the 
medicine  regularly  that  he  had  sent  to 
him. 

"Ye-es,"  was  the  rather  hesitating 
reply.  "  That  is,  I  did  n't  take  it  at 
first.       I    kept    forgetting   it,    but    I  'm 


Robin.  2 1 

taking  it  regularly  now.  I  began  this 
morning." 

The  doctor  shook  his  head  over  this 
unsatisfactory  patient,  but  he  could  not 
scold  him;  for  after  his  little  burst  of 
temper  Robin  had  flung  an  arm  around 
his  friend's  neck,  and  was  looking  into 
his  eyes  with  that  slow,  warm  smile  that 
was  so  mao;netic. 

Then,  just  at  that  moment,  there  was 
a  clatter  of  a  horse's  hoofs  and  shouts 
of  laughter,  as  Lieutenant  Hall,  with 
little  Edith  beside  him,  rode  along  the 
parade-ground,  followed  by  the  clam- 
orous children. 

When  he  reached  Robin  and  the 
doctor,  he  held  in  his  horse,  saying  : 

"  Hallo,  boy,  why  did  n't  you  come  for 
a  trot  ?     Want  to  go  1 " 

Robin  was  as  much  at  ease  on  a 
horse  as  on  a  chair,  and  the  lieutenant, 
after    handing    Edith    to    the    doctor, 


2  2  Robins  Recruit, 

jumped  off  and  slung  him  up  into  the 
saddle,  and  Robin  caught  up  the  reins 
and  cantered  gayly  away. 

"  Ride  straight  round  once,  young 
man ! "  screamed  the  lieutenant  after 
him;  "mind  you  go  no  farther;"  and 
Robin  waved  his  hand  as  an  assurance 
of  obedience.  "  He  rides  like  an  Arab. 
Nice  boy  ;  a  little  peaked,  though,  lately. 
Can't  you  chirk  him  up,  Doctor  ?  " 

But  the  doctor  shook  his  head  and 
scowled,  after  a  fashion  he  had  when 
he  did  not  wish  to  be  questioned,  and 
presently  walked  away  toward  Captain 
Clancy's  quarters. 

Meantime  Robin  was  clattering  past 
the  barracks,  —  his  white  linen  suit 
accented  against  the  glossy  black  skin 
of  the  horse,  his  curly  head,  with  its 
jaunty  red  fez,  thrown  well  back,  his 
eyes  flashing,  —  a  little  atom  of  joyful 
life  in  the  gay  morning  sunshine. 


Robin.  23 

"  Who  is  that  Httle  kid  ? "  asked 
Doogan,  who  was  standing  by  his  quar- 
ters watching  the  boy  with  those  eyes 
that  Sergeant  Corrigan  had  called 
vicious.     "  He  ain't  bad  to  look  at." 


CHAPTER    II. 

AMONG    THE    ROSE-BUSHES. 

"  T  WISH  you  would  send  one  of  the 
men  to  dig  round  my  roses,"  said 
Mrs.  Clancy  to  the  captain  the  next 
morning  at  the  breakfast  table. 

"  One  of  the  recruits  is  a  rose  cul- 
turer,  so  he  says,"  answered  the  captain. 
"  I  '11  send  Imn  up." 

"  Oh,"  said  Robin,  "  maybe  it 's  my 
man,  —  the  one  I  chose  yesterday.  I 
hope  so.  What  sort  of  a  looking  man 
is  he,  father }  " 

"  Well,  my  boy,  nobody  in  his  senses 
would  ever  choose  this  one,  —  an  ugly 
fellow  that   I   shall  have    trouble    with. 


Amo7ior  tJie  Rose-bushes.  25 

Such  men  ought  not  to  be  enlisted,  for 
they  are  a  disgrace  to  the  army,'' 

"  Well,  anyway,  you  have  one  good 
recruit,"  said  Robin,  cheerfully.  ^'  My 
man  won't  be  a  disgrace  to  the  army. 
What 's  the  rose  culturer's  name  1 " 

''It's  Doogan,  —  John  Doogan. 
A-h-h-h  !    what  a  fellow !  " 

The  captain  pushed  his  chair  from 
the  table  as  if  the  very  thought  of  the 
man  took  away  his  appetite,  and  pres- 
ently went  out. 

That  Captain  Clancy  w^as  the  hand- 
somest   and    finest    officer    in    the 

infantry,  was  the  unreserved  opinion  of 
Mrs.  Clancy  and  her  son  Robin.  To 
speak  with  more  moderation,  he  was  a 
fine-looking  officer  with  an  air  of  com- 
mand and  a  proud  step,  as  if  conscious 
that  he  would  never  walk  away  from  his 
duty.     He    was   a    strict    disciplinarian, 


26  Robins  Recruit, 

but  it  is  no  light  task  to  control  so 
many  rough,  turbulent  men  as  were 
under  his  command.  Some  of  them 
drank  ;  some  were  insubordinate ;  and 
now  and  then  one  deserted.  Lieuten- 
ant Hall  and  Lieutenant  Spaulding,  the 
two  other  officers  of  Company  B,  did 
not  take  these  sins  of  the  men  on  their 
own  consciences,  but  Robin  sympathized 
entirely  with  his  father. 

"  This  fellow  I  chose  won't  do  any  of 
those  horrid  things,"  Robin  asserted, 
with  an  air  of  pride,  as  he  and  his 
mother  left  the  table  together,  "'  and  he 
is  so  splendid  and  big.  I  like  men  to 
be  big,  and  women  to  be  little." 

He  stopped  to  give  a  gentle  kiss  to 
the  little  woman  at  his  side,  and  then 
went  on, — 

"  Is  n't  it  lucky  we  got  him }  I  was 
so  afraid  he  would  belong  to  some  other 


Among  the  Rose-bushes.  27 

company.  There,  there  's  the  call  for 
inspection.  If  you  '11  come  out  on  the 
porch,  I  '11  point  him  out  to  you,  for  the 
recruits  will  be  standino^  round  lookino: 
on. 

"  You  must  think,  sweetheart,  I  have 
good  eyes,  to  be  able  to  see  clear  across 
the  parade-ground." 

"  I  think  you  have  the  loveliest  eyes 
of  any  lady  in  the  regiment,"  the  boy 
answered,  looking  admiringly  into  the 
eyes  of  which  his  own  were  faithful 
copies.  "  Everybody  says  so  —  no,  not 
everybody,  because  Arnold  says  his 
mother  's  are  the  handsomest.  It  's  funny 
how  a  fellow  always  thinks  his  mother 
is  handsome.  I  don't  mean  me,  of 
course,  because  you  are,  but  other 
fellows.  You  are  not  only  the  hand- 
somest, but  the  best." 

"  Well,  I  ought  to  be  a  good  mother," 


28 


Robin's  Recruit. 


(T^ 


"  I  think  you  have  the  loveliest  eyes  of  any  lady  in  the  regiment." 


Amo7ig  tJie  Rose-bushes.  29 

said  Mrs.  Clancy,  pulling  Robin  into  her 
lap,  "  when  I  have  such  a  dear  little  son." 
"  Land  !  there  you  two  are  at  it  again. 
Love-makin' !  "  exclaimed  tlie  disgusted 
voice  of  Susannah,  who  was  clearing: 
away  the  breakfast  dishes.  "  It 's  awful 
for  a  woman  of  good,  plain  everyday 
feelin's,  with  no  fancy  trimmin's  to 
'em,  to  have  to  hear  it  a-goin'  on  all  the 
time.  When  it  ain't  you  an'  Robin, 
it 's  you  an'  the  capt'n,  an'  every  evenin' 
it 's  that  silly  Rosy  an'  William  Henry 
Fudsre  in  the  kitchen.  I  never  saw 
such  a  house  as  this.  Last  evenin',  the 
air  bein'  pretty  heavy  with  it  here,  I 
went  over  to  Mrs.  Brown's,  thinkin' 
't  would  be  a  relief  to  set  awhile 
with  some  sensible  middle-aged  body,  an' 
if  there  was  n't  Sarev  an'  that  Smith 
that 's  keepin'  company  with  her,  a-hand- 
squeezin'  together  on  the  doorstep." 


30  Robin  s  Recruit. 

"  Oh,  my  lovely  Susannah,  give  us  one 
of  your  sweet  kisses,"  cried  Robin, 
throwing  his  arms  around  the  waist  of 
the  old  servant.  He  could  n't  forbear 
to  tease  Susannah,  and  followed  her 
about  the  room,  blowing  kisses  at  her 
and  calling  her  extravagant,  fond  names. 

Susannah  was  a  privileged  person  in 
the  Clancy  family.  She  w'ould  willingly 
have  gone  to  the  stake  for  any  one  of 
them,  but  she  intended  as  long  as  she 
lived  here  below  to  speak  her  mind  with 
perfect  freedom  to  everybody,  and  par- 
ticularly to  Miss  Maggy,  as  she  called 
Robin's  mother,  whom  she  had  taken 
care  of  since  her  babyhood,  and  w^iom 
she  still  regarded  as  a  child. 

"  Go  along  with  you,  Robin,"  she  said. 
"  Go  to  your  mother.  She  can  stand 
any  amount  of  such  nonsense.  I  must 
say,  Miss  Maggy,"  —  here  Susannah  set 


Amon£  the  Rose-bushes. 


31 


a    dish    down    hard    and    turned   round 
with  her  arms  akimbo,  —  "  I  must  say  I 
don't  Hke  them  words  you  an'  the  capt'n 
(an'  now    Robin   has   caught  'em)   uses 
so      free,       Hke 
darhn'  an'  dear- 
est   an'  —  an 
sweetheart. 
That  last  is  aw- 
ficll'    said    Su- 
sannah,   with    a 
shudder.     "In 
my     opinion     a 
man     should  n't 
ever  allow  him- 
self to  go  beyond 
dear  before  folks.     Now,  Robin,  suppose 
you  leave  off  kissin'  your  ma  an'  come 
an'  take  your  medicine." 

''  I  'd  rather  kiss  my  ma,"  answered 
Robin,  roguishly,  but  he  followed  poor 
Susannah  into  the  kitchen. 


Susannah 


32  Robins  Reci^uit. 

Presently  he  returned  with  the  infor* 
mation  that  the  man  had  come  to  die 
round  the  rose-bushes,  and  was  already 
at  w^ork  in  the  garden. 

"  He  is  my  man,  after  all,"  said  Robin, 
"  and  I  'm  going  out  to  talk  to  him.  Look 
out  the  window  and  see  what  a  splendid 
strong  fellow  he  is." 

"  Is  that  your  much-talked-of  man  ?  " 
cried  Susannah,  who  had  come  in 
behind  Robin  and  now  looked  curiously 
from  behind  the  window-curtain  over 
her  mistress's  shoulder.  "  He  looks  like 
a  jail-bird,  or  zutiss,  if  there  be  such.  I 
would  n't  trust  that  critter  with  a  fly." 

Robin  being  already  out  of  the  room, 
there  was  no  one  to  stand  up  for  poor 
Doogan.     Mrs.  Clancy  said,  — 

"  Oh,  Susannah,  he  is  rousrh-lookinQr. 
I  don't  like  to  have  Robin  out  there 
with  him." 


Among  the  Rose-bushes,  33 

"  Well,  keep  your  eye  on  the  pair  of 
'em  every  minute,"  Susannah  advised. 
"  I  've  got  to  go  back  to  the  kitchen." 

Dashing  out  into  the  little  enclosure 
in  front  of  the  house,  Robin  shouted  a 
blithe  good-morning  to  Doogan,  who 
was  standing  with  his  back  to  him 
spading  up  a  flower-bed,  and  who  re- 
turned his  pleasant  greeting  in  a  dis- 
couragingly  gruff  tone. 

He  was  a  magnificently  made  creature 
of  fine  proportions,  and  an  air  of  great 
strength,  but  in  his  bold  black  eyes  there 
was  an  ugly,  defiant  look.  Hardly  more 
than  a  boy,  he  already  seemed  to  have 
lived  some  rough,  lawless  life  in  which 
his  hand  had  been  against  every  man 
and  every  man's  hand  against  him. 

But  little  Robin  saw  nothing  of  this, 
and  stood  watching  him  with  a  look  of 
pride   and    proprietorship.       At    length, 


34  Robins  Recruit. 

by  way  of  conversation,  he  remarked  : 
"  My  father  says  you  're  a  rose-cul- 
turer.  It  sounds  like  a  nice  business, 
but  beino-  a  soldier  is  even  nicer.  How 
do  you  think  you  '11  like  being  a 
soldier?  " 

Doogan  growled  an  answer  that  was 
quite  unintelligible  to  Robin ;  but  there 
was  no  mistaking  the  meaning  of  his 
scowl,  and  his  tone  implied  that  the 
taste  he  had  had  of  soldiering  was  any- 
thing but  satisfactory. 

"  Well,  I  hope  you  '11  like  it,"  Robin 
said.  "  I  'm  so  glad  you  are  in  our 
company.  It  was  funny,  was  n't  it,  but 
I  chose  you  right  in  the  beginning }  " 

"  Chose  me,"  repeated  Doogan,  for 
the  first  time  bestowing  a  look  upon 
his  companion. 

"  Yes,  I  chose  you  out  of  all  the 
recruits,"  said  Robin,  smiling. 


Ainong  the  Rose-bitshes,  35 

"  What  for  ?  "  questioned  Doogan. 

"Because,"  answered  Robin,  —  "be- 
cause  I  liked  your  looks." 

"  Cos  he  liked  my  looks  !  " 

Doogan  smiled  a  queer  sort  of  a 
smile,  and  then  added,  —    • 

"  Well,  there  ain't  any  accountin'  for 
taste,  but  mind  you,  sonny,  beauty  is 
only  skin  deep." 

"  It  was  n't  so  much  that,  but  I 
thought  you  were  kind  of  good  and 
pleasant,"  Robin  explained.  "  Big 
fellows  are  usually  kind.  I  suppose  it 's 
because  they  feel  sorry  for  other  people 
that  are  so  much  weaker." 

"  I  never  see  a  more  discernin'  little 
chap.  You  ought  to  go  into  the  dertec- 
tive  business  when  you  grow  up.  Bein' 
able  to  judge  so  accurate  of  character, 
you  'd  jest  make  yer  mark." 

"  Thank  you,"  said    Robin,   who    be- 


36  Robins  Recruit. 

lieved  himself  complimented,  "  but  I  'm 
going  to  be  an  army-officer,  so  I  can't 
be  a  —  er  —  what  was  it  you  said  ?  " 

"  Dertective,"  suggested  Doogan. 
"  Well,  the  perfession  has  lost  an  orna- 
ment, that's  all.  An'  so  you  thought 
I  was  good  an'  pleasant,  did  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Robin,  promptly,  '^  I 
did.  I  told  my  father  about  you.  I 
told  him  he  had  got  one  recruit,  any- 
how, that  would  n't  drink  or  do  any 
of  the  things  that  make  so  much 
trouble." 

"  Sech  a  discernin'  little  chap  !"  again 
murmured  Doogan.  "  An'  what  did  yer 
pa  say  ?  " 

"  I  don't  remember  what  he  said,  but 
he  was  awfully  glad,  of  course.  He 
did  n't  know  which  you  were,  though." 

Robin  stopped  in  confusion,  suddenly 
realizing  what  his  father  had  said  about 


Amo7ig  the  Rose-biishes.  37 

Doosran  before  knowino;  that  he  was  the 
recruit  of  his  son's  choice  ;  but  Doogan 
did  not  notice  Robin's  confusion,  and 
went  on,  — 

"  Yes,  I  'm  about  as  good  an'  pleasant 
a  feller  as  he  's  likely  to  find.  The 
trouble  is,  I  "m  most  too  good.  I  don't 
want  to  do  nothin'  all  day  but  to  read 
tracks." 

"Oh,  but  there  is  so  much  to  be 
done,  you  know,'"  said  the  boy,  doubt- 
fully.       "  There  's    drillino;    and    taro^et 

^  (DO 

practice  and  —  and  ever  so  many  things. 
A  soldier  has  to  work  pretty  hard,  I 
think." 

"  Well  I  ain't  any  objection  to 
workin'.  I  'm  willin',  jest  perfectly 
willin'  to  work  —  say  a  couple  o'  hours 
every  other  Wednesday." 

"  Oh,  you  're  joking."  said  Robin,  with 
an    air    of   relief.     ''  I    like  people   that 


38  Robins  Recruit. 

joke,  but  I  really  thought  you  were  in 
earnest  about  the  tracks.  How  did  you 
come  to  enlist  ?  " 

"  Yer  see  I  'd  heard  that  soldiers  was 
a  pretty  rough  lot,  an'  I  thought  my 
example  might  do  'em  good.  'Twas,  as 
you  may  say,  from  a  sense  of  dooty. 
There  now," —  Doogan  interrupted  him- 
self, —  "  these  roses  oughter  do  well." 

"  The  trouble  most  years  is  that  they 
bloom  too  early,  and  a  norther  comes 
along  and  nips  all  the  buds,"  ex- 
claimed  Robin. 

"'  I  hope  they  won't  be  sech  bloomin' 
idiots  this  year,"  said  Doogan,  chuck- 
ling over  his  joke,  as  he  drove  the  spade 
into  the  hard  earth  and  turned  it  over 
with  an  ease  that  was  much  admired  by 
his  companion. 

"You're  just  awful  strong,  are  n't 
you  ? "  the  boy  said  presently.  "  I  suppose 


Among  the  Rose-bushes.  39 

your  legs  don't  ever  shake  when  you  try 
to  run,  and  something  that 's  queer  inside 
of  you  does  n't  flutter  and  make  you 
dizzy  ?  " 

"  Well,  no ;  them  sensations  you 
speak  of  ain't  common  with  me,"  an- 
swered Doogan,  still  with  that  curious 
little  chuckle  of  his.  But  suddenly  he 
left  off  digging,  and  turning  round, 
looked  thoughtfully  at  Robin,  saying, 
"  I  hope  you  ain't  describin'  any  feel- 
in's  of  your  own." 

And  then  he  burst  out  crossly,  "  I  'd 
like  to  know  what  that  grave-face  doctor 
that  's  a-kickin'  his  heels  down  at  the 
hospittal  is  about  not  to  give  you  some- 
thing to  set  you  up." 

"Oh,  he  has  given  me  something; 
and  I  'm  not  exactly  sick,  Doogan,  only 
sort  of  shaky.  I  would  n't  think  any- 
thing of  it,  I  suppose,  only  I  used  to  be 


40  Robiiis  Recruit. 

so  strong.  Why,  I  never  thought  of 
my  legs,  and  did  n't  know  I  had  that 
queer  thing  that  flutters.  Sometimes 
I  think  perhaps  I  deserve  it  because  I 
used  to  be  such  a  bully." 

"An'  how  was  you  a  bully  .^  "  asked 
Doogan,  with  flattering  interest. 

"  Oh,  I  was  always  fighting.  I  used 
to  stay  at  the  barracks  a  good  deal,  and 
whenever  a  boy  came  along,  the  men 
would  say,  — 

"'Hullo,  here  comes  Johnny  Green' 
(or  whoever  the  boy  was).  '  I  say,  Robin, 
he  can  lick  you ; '  and  then,  you  know, 
I  felt  obliged  to  fight.  To  tell  the  truth," 
Robin  went  on  confidentially,  "  I  did  n't 
want  to  fight.  I  was  afraid  —  just  a 
very  little  afraid  —  the  other  boy  might 
hurt  me,  and  I  did  n't  care  so  particu- 
larly about  hurting  him,  though  of 
course   if  one   of   us  had  to  be  hurt,   I 


Among  the  Rose-dtiskes.  41 

did  n't  want  it  to  be  me.  But  I  mean 
to  be  a  soldier,  and  I  can't  be  a  coward ; 
when  I  thought  of  that  I  'd  always 
pitch  in." 

"  You  seem  to  have  given  up  the 
occypation  now,"  observed  Doogan. 
"  How  's  that  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  see,  my  father  explained 
to  me  that  if  a  brave  man  fights,  it 's  for 
some  good  cause,  and  not  just  for  the 
sake  of  fighting.  It 's  lucky  for  me 
there  are  other  ways  of  showing  one's 
courage,"  said  Robin,  I'ather  soberly, 
"for  most  any  fellow  could  whip  me 
now.  There  are  other  wavs  ;  don't  vou 
think  so,  Doogan  }  " 

"  Lots  of  'em,  —  jest  heaps,"  said 
Doogan,  consolingly.  "  I  wish  I  could 
give  you  some  of  my  strength.  I  might 
spare  enough  to  set  up  a  little  chap  like 
you,  an'  never  be  the  wuss  for  it." 


42  Robins  Recruit. 

But  Robin  protested  against  this. 
"  It  would  be  a  pity  for  you  to  lose  any 
q{ your  strength,"  he  said.  "  I  should  n't 
want  to  take  it.  You  are  going  to  do 
so  much  for  the  men,  you  know." 

Doogan's  work  among  the  rose-bushes 
was  finished,  and  he  was  gathering  to- 
gether his  tools,  but  he  looked  from 
under  his  heavy  brow  at  Robin,  and 
said  earnestly,  — 

"  See  here,  little  un ;  all  I  said  to  you 
was  jest  stuff.  'T  warn't  true,  —  not  a 
word  of  it.  I  'm  a  terrible  ugly  fellow, 
a  bad  lot,  not  fit  to  be  gassin'  here  with 
an  innercent  little  chap  like  you.  An' 
I  '11  take  it  kindly  —  for  your  own  sake, 
mind  yer  —  if  you  '11  jest  keep  clear  o' 
me  in  the  future." 


R 


CHAPTER    III. 

THE    ACCIDENT. 

OBIN   looked  admirinoly  after  the 


'&' 


splendid  figure  of  Doogan  as  he 
strode  away  across  the  parade-ground. 
What  the  recruit  had  said  made  little 
impression  upon  him,  for  he  disposed  of 
the  whole  question  on  the  ground  that 
modesty  is  the  sister  of  virtue. 

"  I  'm  sure  he  's  a  good  man,  —  this 
Doogan,"  he  said  to  himself.  ^'  I  'm 
going  to  hunt  up  Sergeant  Corrigan, 
and  see  what  he  has  to  say  about  him." 

Sergeant  Corrigan  and  Robin  were 
old  friends,  the  tie  between  them  beine 
their  devotion  to  Company  B.  Often 
they  had  long,  confidential  talks  on  the 
character  of  the  men,  about  whom   they 


44  Robiiis  Recruit. 

sometimes  quarrelled,  the  sergeant  hold- 
ing dark  views,  born  of  a  hard  experi- 
ence, on   this  subject. 

Corrigan  had  married  Robin's  former 
nurse,  and  the  boy  considered  himself  a 
friend  of  the  family,  takino:  a  orodfatherlv 


'>iiii>.T 


Sergeant  Corrigan's  House  in  Soapsuds  Row. 

sort  of  interest  in  the  young  Corrigans. 
The  sergeant  lived  in  one  of  the  line  of 
houses  called  Soapsuds  Row,  the  resi- 
dences of  the  regimental  laundresses. 
Although  he  had  been  a  long  time  in 
the  service,  and,  being  of  an  unusually 
frugal  nature,  was  in  very  comforta- 
ble circumstances,  his  wife  sometimes 
earned  at  the  wash-tub  extra  comforts, 
" —  such  as  window-shades  for  her  parlor, 


The  Accident.  45 

or  shoes  for  her  boys,  these  articles 
being  considered  enervating  luxuries  by 
her  more  economical  husband;  and  that 
morning  when  Robin  came  in  search  of 
the  sergeant,  Mary's  cheerful  Irish  face 
greeted  him  over  a  steaming  tub  of 
soldiers'  shirts.  The  baby  was  asleep  ; 
but  Master  Robin  Corrigan,  our  hero's 
namesake,  was  skipping  up  and  down 
the  room  in  excitement,  having,  after 
nobody  knows  how  many  days  of 
patient  angling,  caught  a  small  fish  in 
the  creek.  His  tender-hearted  mother 
was  vainly  imploring  him  to  return  the 
little  fish  to  its  native  element. 

"  Sure,  if  I  do  I  can't  catch  him  ag'in 
whin  I  'm  wantin'  him,"  answered  Bob, 
with  youthful  foresight.  "  I  'd  better 
be  killin'  him  now,  an'  whin  I  ate  him 
for  me  dinner,  I  '11  be  sure  of  him." 

"That  kind  of  fish  is  n't  good  to  eat," 
said  Robin. 


46  Robms  Recruit. 

"  An'  did  ye  iver  ate  one,  thin  ? " 
asked  Bob,  shrewdly. 

"  Kill  him,  thin,the  aisiest  way,  darlin'. 
How?  Well,  sure,  they  say  drownin' 
do  be  the  aisiest  death  of  all,"  said  his 
mother,  who  was  a  wit  in  her  way, 
winking  at  Robin.  "  Go  put  him  in  the 
crick,  me  swate  bye." 

But  little  Bob  had  already  dropped 
the  fish  in  the  tub  of  scalding  suds,  and 
with  indignant  roughness,  Mary  turned 
him  out  of  doors.  The  skirmish  woke 
up  the  baby,  who  doubled  the  noise  by 
his  cries.  Mary  took  him  up,  and  set- 
tling him  in  his  carriage,  asked  Robin 
if  he  would  not,  for  friendship's  sake, 
take  him  out  of  doors. 

Robin  could  have  devised  a  more 
agreeable  employment  for  himself  than 
taking  Baby  Corrigan  for  an  airing. 
He    privately    regretted    having    placed 


The  Accident. 


47 


himself  within  Mary's  reach;  but  he 
was  an  obliging  boy,  and  did  not  like 
to  refuse. 

Down   the    hill,  just  below  Soapsuds 


-*-  ^^ . 


.v^ 


^vv.: 


Vv*«LW^^^ 


^ 


By  the  Creek. 


Row,  winds  the  lovely  little  stream 
called  Las  Moras.  Its  banks  are  cov- 
ered with  verdure,  so  that  its  course  is 


48 


Robin's  Recruit. 


like  a  fresh  green  ribbon  along  the  dry, 
arid  chaparral,  or  bush  country,  that 
surrounds  Fort  Carey.  The  live-oaks, 
often  fringed  with  moss,  overhang  the 
creek,  upon  whose  smooth  green  water 
glisten  the  white  geese. 

The  banks  of  the  stream  were  a  fa- 
vorite play-ground 
of  the  laundresses' 
children;  and 
there  Robin  found 
Bob  Corrio^an,  who 
had  comforted 
himself  for  the  loss 
of  his  fish  by  the 
capture  of  one  of 
his  mother's  finest 
roosters.  He 
called  to  Robin  to 
come  and  help 
L^C^^^''"  him  teach  the 
rooster  to  swim,  so 

Bob  Corrigan. 


The  Accideitt.  49 

that    he    could    enjoy    himself    on    the 
creek  with  the  geese. 

This  novel  and  apparently  benevolent 
project  attracted  Robin,  who  at  once 
guided  the  perambulator  down  the  bank 
to  where  his  young  friend  stood. 

"  The  water  is  n't  deep  enough  right 
here,"  he  said  at  length,  having  watched 
with  much  interest  the  first  unsuccessful 
attempts.  "  You  see,  he  gets  right  to 
the  bottom  and  walks  out.  You  have 
to  go  into  deep  water  to  learn  to  swim." 

"  He  'd  be  afther  drownin',  an'  we 
could  n't  git  him  thin,"  objected  Bob. 

Robin  dived  down  into  those  mines 
of  wealth,  his  trouser  pockets,  and 
drew  forth  a  piece  of  twine.  This  he 
tied  to  one  of  the  legs  of  the  rooster, 
and  stepping  out  on  a  rock,  threw^  the 
poor,  loudly  protesting  creature  out  into 
the  water. 

4 


50  Robins  Recruit. 

*'  The  seese  swim  here,  and  so  of 
course  the  rooster  can,"  he  said  confi- 
dently ;  but  after  repeated  trials  the 
rooster  proved  quite  unteachable. 

"  Innyhow,  the  water  plases  him 
better  now,"  said  Bob,  by  way  of  en- 
couraorement.  "  He  don't  kick  at  it 
inny  more." 

A  stranQ:e  and  silent  submission  had 
succeeded  the  frantic  expostulations 
wdth  which  the  rooster  had  sought  to 
convince  the  boys  of  the  hopelessness 
of  their  project ;  and  an  uncomfortable 
misgiving  moved  Robin  to  pull  it 
ashore.  He  untied  the  string  and  tried 
to  make  it  stand,  but  the  poor  fowl  fell 
flatly  on  its  side  with  its  legs  stuck  out 
stiffly. 

"  I  'm  afraid  we  Ve  hurt  it,"  he  said 
anxiously  to  Bob,  who,  after  poking  it 
wath  his  fat  fingers,  declared  "  't  was  only 


The  Accident,  51 

tired  out,  the  pore  thing  was,  with  all 
the  fuss  he  'd  been  makinV'  and  that  he 
would  "  carry  it  away  to  the  coop  for 
rest." 

Robin  watched  him  with  lively 
remorse. 

"  I  wish  I  had  n't  done  it,"  he  said  to 
himself,  as  he  pushed  the  perambulator 
up  the  bank.  "  I  'm  afraid  I  worried 
the  poor  rooster  to  death,  and  it 's  a 
cowardly  thing  to  tease  helpless  crea- 
tures. Horatio  never  would  have  done 
it,  neither  would  any  of  those  brave  old 
Spartans.  Abraham  Lincoln  always 
protected  the  weak.  I  ni  afraid  that  I 
shall  grow  up  to  be  like  Nero." 

In  his  repentance,  Robin  did  the  best 
thing  he  could,  which  was  to  devote 
himself  to  present  duty,  —  the  care  of 
Baby  Corrigan. 

The  thought  that  fifty  cents  would 
make  the   loss  good   to   Mary  was  con- 


52  Rob  ill's  Recruit. 

soling,  but  he  told  himself  sadly  that 
he  never  could  make  it  up  to  the 
rooster. 

There  was  a  foot-bridge  that  crossed 
the  creek  as  a  means  of  communication 
between  the  post  and  the  town,  and  to 
Robin's  joy  he  now  saw  Sergeant  Corri- 
gan  hurrying  over  it.  He  stopped 
the  baby-carriage,  and  saluted  respect- 
fully, while  the  sergeant,  having  given  a 
paternal  caress  to  his  son,  took  off  his 
cap  and  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his 
forehead. 

"  I  have  been  looking  for  you,  Ser- 
geant," said   Robin. 

"  Well,  I  've  been  over  to  town,  and  on 
bad  business,  too.  I  have  been  looking 
after  Kelly,  who  was  missing  at  inspec- 
tion this  morning,  and  just  as  I  ex- 
pected, found  him  dead  drunk  down  at 
the  Merry  Mule.  That  town  plays  the 
mischief    with    our    men.     There    was 


The  Accide7it.  ^^ 

Myers  just  ruined  there,  and  Kelly's 
following  suit  as  fast  as  he  can.  By 
the  great  horn  spoon,"  went  on  the 
sergeant,  who  in  moments  of  great  ex- 
citement permitted  himself  this  unique 
oath,  "  we  never  had  a  poorer  lot  of 
men  than  at  present,  —  take  em  by  the 
lot,  boy.  And  the  recruits  —  for  I  Ve 
sized  'em  up  —  aren't  goin' to  be  any 
improvement." 

"  Well,  I  guess  you  have  n't  sized  up 
Doogan,"  interrupted  Robin.  "  He  's  all 
right." 

"  Now  you  're  wrong  there,  Robin. 
He  is  a  bad  lot,  he  is.  You  can  see  it 
in  his  eye,  and  you  can  see  it  in  the 
whole  bad  face  of  him.  He  '11  never  be 
any  credit  to  B  Company,  I  '11  warrant 
you." 

"  I  don't  think  it 's  fair  to  give  a  man 
a  bad   name   before  you  know  anythino- 


54  Robins  Recruit. 

against  him.  When  Doogan  has  turned 
out  to  be  a  good,  brave  soldier,  you  will 
want  to  take  back  the  mean  thinsf 
you  've  said  now." 

Robin's  eyes  glittered.  He  was 
afraid  he  was  severe  on  his  old  friend, 
but  his  pity  for  Doogan,  condemned 
before  he  had  been  given  a  trial,  urged 
him  on.  Corrigan,  deep  in  his  own 
thoughts,  had  not  even  noticed  Robin's 
wrath. 

"  I  should  n't  be  surprised  if  he  had 
deserted  from  some  other  regiment,"  he 
Vv^ent  on  cahnly.  "  He  says  he  's  been  a 
rose-culturer.  Sounds  dreadful  inno- 
cent, does  n't  it }  I  reckon  he  's  done 
so7itethincr  in  his  life  beside  tendino^ 
posies.  I  think  he  's  a  desperate  sort  of 
a  character.  And  the  captain,  I  see, 
thinks  so  too,  though  he  does  n't  say 
much,   as   of  course   he   should  n't,  —  it 


The  Accident.  55 

being,  perhaps,  as  you  say,  a  little  pre- 
vious. Yes,  he  's  a  bad  lot.  Why,  just 
to  see  the  color  that  flies  into  his  ugly 
face  when  an  order  is  given  him." 

"  Uo-ly  face  !  I  think  he  's  hand- 
some !  "  cried  Robin.  "Why,  Ser- 
o-eant,"  he  went  on,  measuring  his 
friend  with  a  critical  eye,  "  I  believe 
he  could  lift  you  up  wdth  his  little 
finger." 

"Perhaps  he  could,  —  perhaps  he 
could,"  answered  the  sergeant,  good- 
humoredly.  "  When  it  comes  to 
strength,  that 's  another  matter.  Did 
you  hear  how  some  of  the  men  tried  to 
keep  him  from  passing  over  the  bridge 
this  morning  ?  You  know  it 's  not  wide 
enough  for  more  than  one  to  pass  at  a 
time,  and  they  were  coming  over  from 
Plunkett. 

"  When  he  saw  what  they  were  up  to, 


56  Robins  Recruit. 

he  stood  stockstill  in  the  middle  of  the 
bridge,  and  yelled  to  them  to  come  on. 
Though  they  had  been  as  bold  as  you 
please  before,  when  they  saw  him  stand- 
ing there  with  his  fist  doubled  up  and 
those  black  eyes  of  his  glaring  at  'em, 
they  did  n't  seem  to  hanker  after  the 
job  of  handling  him.  However,  they 
could  n't  back  out,  and  so  the  first  one 
stepped  on.  Well,  Doogan  picked  him 
up  and  tossed  him  like  a  wisp  of  straw 
over  the  bridge  into  the  crick,  and  the 
next  man  he  tossed  over  the  otJier  side 
of  the  bridge.  As  for  the  rest  of  those 
men,  why,  bless  you,  they  huddled  to- 
gether like  a  lot  of  sheep  on  the  Plun- 
kett  side  without  offering  to  set  foot  on 
the  bridsre  until  Doo^'an  had  crossed 
over  and  was  halfway  to  town." 

"  Why,  it  was  like  Horatio,  was  n't 
it }  "  exclaimed  Robin,  excitedly.  "  I 
think   it  was  splendid." 


The  Accident,  57 

"Horatio?  An'  who  may  he  be?" 
questioned  the  sergeant,  looking  puzzled. 

"  Whv  don't  vou  remember  the  piece, 
Sergeant  ? 

"  Then  out  spake  brave  Horatio, 
The  captain  of  the  gate  : 
'  To  every  man  upon  this  earth 
Death  cometh  soon  or  late. 
And  how  can  man  die  better 
Than  facing  fearful  odds 
For  the  ashes  of  his  fathers 
And  the  temples  of  his  gods  ?  *  "* 

"Yes,  I  remember  now,  —  the  chap 
570U  are  so  fond  of  outer  the  Roman 
History;  but  as  I  recollect  the  piece, 
this  Horatio  was  a-iighting  for  his 
country.  That 's  the  meaning  of  the 
ashes  and  temples,  which  are  just 
fieeers  of  speech.     So  vou  see  it  was  n't 

OCT)  -L  ^ 

a  similar  case.  However,  since  you've 
taken  a  liking  to  him,  I  won't  disparage 
Doosan.  Give  him  time,  an'  he  's  sure 
to   show  himself  out.    whatever    he    is. 


58 


Robin  s   Recruit. 


Now  I  'm  goin'  right  along  home,  and 
I  11  take  this  little  snipe  back  to  his 
mother.  You  had  better  go  home  too," 
added  Corrigan,  with  a  sharp  look  at 
Robin.  "  It 's  getting  hot,  and  if  I  was 
you  I  'd  get  out  of  this  sun.  There  's 
dinner-call  now." 


MESS. 


Soup-y,    soup-y,     soup-y,     with-out       a  -  ny 


bean. 


Pork  -  y,    pork  -  y,        pork   -■   y, 


mzm^jzzm 


w 


ith  -  out      a  -  nv  lean,  Cof-fee,    cof-fee, 


-0 #-  --| — 0 0  0  0-0 1- 


-r- 


3 


cof  -  fee,        Avith  -  out       a    -  ny     cream. 


The  Accident.  59 

So  Robin  be2:an  to  climb  the  hill 
toward  the  parade-ground.  Meanwhile 
his  thoughts  were  of  Doogan,  whom  he 
was  enthroning  in  one  of  the  high 
places  in  his  heart  with  the  heroes  he 
worshipped.  Some  of  these  were  taken 
from  history,  or  legendary  poems  that 
his  mother  taught  him,  and  some  were 
unknown  men  whose  brave  deeds  were 
none  the  less  inspiring  because  history 
has  not  commemorated  them,  and 
which  live  only  in  admiring  hearts  of 
comrades. 

He  aspired  to  be  a  strong  man  him- 
self, and  strength  implied  valor  with 
Robin ;  but  for  the  present,  he  could 
hardly  drag  one  weary  foot  after  the 
other.  The  sun,  beating  down  on  the 
white  limestone  soil,  blinded  him.  His 
head  swam,  and  a  sudden  sickness  made 
him  think  of  the  rooster,  with  a  vague 


6o  Robins  Recruit. 

wonder  if,  as  he  lay  there  so  stiff  and 
niotionless,  he  had  felt  like  this.  Robin 
had  now  reached  the  top  of  the  hill 
where  the  barracks  are.  Along  this 
line  came  the  ambulance,  ■ —  a  clumsy 
old  vehicle  drawn  by  sleek  government 
mules.  They  came  at  their  fastest 
speed,  for  the  driver  was  in  haste  to  get 
to  the  corral. 

The  soldiers  sitting  on  the  barrack- 
steps  shouted  warningly  to  Robin,  who 
stood  quite  still  directly  in  its  course. 
In  that  instant  before  the  foremost  mule 
struck  him,  they  wondered  at  his  sup- 
posed foolhardiness,  then  rushed  to  him; 
while  Lieutenant  Hall,  who  had  wit- 
nessed the  accident  from  the  doorway 
of  headquarters,  and  two  other  officers 
who  were  crossing  the  parade-ground, 
also  ran  up.  The  mules  had  been  in- 
standy    reined    in ;      and     Hooley,    the 


The  Accident.  6i 

driver,  white  with  alarm,  sat  bending 
over  the  seat  looking  at  Robin.  Every 
face  wore  an  air  of  tender  anxiety ;  for 
Robin,  with  his  love  of  fun,  his  sensi- 
bility, his  heart  full  of  love,  and  his 
passionate  admiration  for  what  is  great 
and  brave,  was  dear  to  every  soul  in  the 
old  garrison.  But,  thank  Heaven,  the 
bright  spirit  they  loved  still  shone  out 
of  those  dark  eyes  that  looked  with  such 
brave  reassurance  into  theirs.  No  one 
could  tell,  however,  how  great  his 
injuries  might  be.  Some  one  immedi- 
ately started  in  search  of  the  doctor ; 
another  to  prepare  Mrs.  Clancy  for  the 
child's  coming.  Then  a  stretcher  was 
brought,  but  when  thev  would  have 
lifted  him  upon  it,  Robin  shook  his 
head,  saying,  — 

"  Where  is  Doogan  .^    I  want  Doogan 
to  carry  me." 


62  Robins  Recriiit. 

There  was  a  stir  of  surprise  among 
the  men,  but  they  moved  away ;  and  the 
recruit,  having  been  told  of  Robin's 
wish,  pushed  through  the  crowd,  and 
stooping  down,  Hfted  him  gently  in  his 
strong,  steady  arms. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

AN    IMPATIENT    PATIENT. 

npHERE  was  great  rejoicing  at 
Fort  Carey  when  the  doctor  had 
o-iven  his  opinion  on  Robin's  case,  for 
no  bones  were  broken,  and  although  the 
doctor  had  not  been  able  to  decide  the 
extent  of  Robin's  injuries,  he  did  not 
think  that  any  serious  trouble  need  be 
anticipated.  A  sprained  back,  however, 
would-  cause  the  patient  some  pain,  and 
make  care  needful  There  must  be 
many  weary  wrecks  before  he  could  ex- 
pect to  run  about  the  post  as  before. 

Robin  bore  the  sentence  with  cour- 
aee.  It  was  just  at  oruard-mount,  and 
the   strains   of  martial   music   from    the 


64 


Robiiis  Recruit. 


band  burst  on  Robin  s  ear  as  an  accom- 
paniment to  the  painful  words,  and 
miade   them  easier  to  bear. 


"  It  was  just  at  guard-mount." 

The  doctor  was  a  warm  admirer  of 
^Robin,  and  having  sympathy  with  his 
moods,  knew  how  to  help  him  bear  his 
misfortune. 

"  There  are  other  emergencies  that 
measure  a  man's  courage  just   as  well  as 


An  Impatient  Patient.  65 

a  battle-field,"  he  said ;  "  and  many  a 
soldier,  if  he  spoke  the  truth,  would  say 
that  the  hardest  fight  he  ever  made  was 
in  the  hospital.  It  takes  a  stronger  spirit 
to  conquer  oneself  than  any  other 
enemy,  so  you  must  brace  up,  Robin, 
and  make  a  hard  fight  for  patience." 
From  the  window  Robin  cauo^ht  the 
bright  scene  on  the  parade-ground, 
where,  headed  by  the  bandsmicn  in  their 
gay  uniforms,  the  men,  with  their  bayo- 
nets gleaming  in  the  late  sunlight,  were 
now  marching  before  the  adjutant.  He 
could  see  the  fine,  erect  figure  of  his 
father,  who,  as  the  new  officer  of  the 
day,  was  standing  with  Captain  Ball,  the 
old  offixCer  of  the  day,  at  the  other  end 
of  the  field.  All  there  was  life  and 
motion,  —  a  boy's  paradise,  in  which 
there  seemed  no  call  for  the  humdrum 
virtue    the    doctor    praised.      Then    the 


66  Robin  s  Recruit 

band  clansfed  and  clashed  in  a  final 
flourish  that  was  like  a  burst  of  triumph, 
as  the  new  guards  marched  to  their  post 
at  the  guard-house,  and  a  small  boy  with 
a  sprained  back  and  brave  heart  also 
went    on    duty. 

"  I  never  cared  very  much  about 
being  patient,"  he  said ;  "  it  does  n't  seem 
one  of  the  boss  virtues  at  all,  and  only 
eood  for  women  who  sit  in  the  house 
and  sew.  Perhaps  it  will  be  a  good 
plan  to  go  in  for  it  now  when  I  can't  do 
anything  better.  So,  Doctor,  I  'm  going 
to  try  to  be  patient,  and  not  make  a 
fuss,  no  matter  how  long  I  have  to  stay 
quiet.'' 

But  this  mood  could  not  be  expected 
to  last ;  to  poor  Robin,  as  to  us  all,  there 
come  moments  of  trial  when  no  martial 
music  inspires  us  with  courage,  and  no 
kind  friend  is  at  hand   to  point  out  the 


Ari  Impatient  Patient.  67 

better  way.  Robin  was  no  saint,  only  a 
warm-hearted,  human  boy,  whose  good 
resolutions  would  not  always  stand 
test.  At  such  times  he  declared  he 
would  not  even  try  to  be  patient, — 
turned  his  face  from  his  mother,  and 
had  only  cross  words  for  poor,  faithful 
Susannah. 

"  There,  boy,  don't  take  on  so," 
Susannah  begged  of  him  one  day. 
"  Let 's  be  thankful  it  's  no  worse,  as 
't  well   mio^ht   have   been." 

''  Thankful !  I  won't  be  thankful  !  " 
Robin  burst  out  crossly.  ''  I  suppose 
I  've  eot  to  bear  it,  but  I  won't  be  thank- 
ful.  And  it 's  never  so  bad,  Susannah, 
that  it  might  n't  be  worse.  If  you  break 
your  arm,  it  might  have  been  your  leg ; 
and  if  it  s  your  leg,  why,  it  might  have 
been  your  neck.  Anyhow,  to  sprain 
your  back  is  bad  enough  for  me  ;  and 


68  Robins  Recruit. 

you  need  n't  think  I  'm  going  to  jump 
for   joy    because    I  've   done    it." 

Then  he  flung  his  book  on  the  floor 
as  a  sample  of  the  behavior  she  might 
expect  from  him  ;  but  the  next  moment 
he  threw  his  arms  around  her  neck, 
owning  that  he  was  cross  and  begging 
her   to   forgive    him. 

The  book  Robin  flung  away  in  his 
pet  was  about  a  boy  who,  like  himself, 
w^as  sick  and  obliged  to  keep  quiet,  but 
the  resemblance  between  the  two 
stopped  here ;  for  that  boy  was  never 
known  to  complain  through  all  the  four 
hundred  pages  that  described  his  woes. 
When  any  one  spoke  to  him  of  them,  he 
always  answered  "  in  a  gentle  voice," 
and  to  the  effect  tliat  he  did  not  mind 
suffering  at  all.  Robin  thought  that 
this  taste  was  peculiar,  to  say  the  least, 
for   he  himself    objected    very   strongly 


An  Imp  at  1671 1  Patie^it.  69 

to  suffering,  which  always  made  him 
cross  instead  of  g:entle.  The  bov  in  the 
book  seemed,  too,  always  to  wear  a  wan 
smile. 

Robin  asked  Susannah  what  sort  of  a 
smile  that  was,  and  if  she  had  ever 
noticed  that  he  smiled  in  that  way.  He 
wished  to  play  the  role  of  invalid  with 
equal  propriety,  and  asking  for  a  hand- 
glass, made  many  experiments  in  smiles, 
but  he  was  never  able  to  produce  any- 
thing better  than  what  he  himself  called 
"  a  cross  grin." 

All  this  time  there  were  constant 
callers  at  the  Clancys'  quarters  with 
inquiries  for  Robin.  Many  of  the  ladies 
brought  delicacies  to  tempt  his  appetite. 
Sometimes  for  a  few  moments  the 
children  were  allowed  to  see  him ;  and 
often  his  friend  Arnold  came  in  to  tell 
him  the  news  of  the  post,  or  to  read  to 


JO  Robiiis  Recruit. 

him.  After  the  unpleasant  scene  with 
Susannah  just  described,  Rose  Milby 
brouorht  in  her  zither,  and  with  her 
nimble  white  fingers  chased  away  all 
Robin's  pain  and  ill-humor.  Then 
came  a  call  from  Lieutenant  Hall,  who 
entertained  him  with  anecdotes  of  a 
remarkable  dog  he  had,  and  left  with 
him  for  company  a  little  horned  toad 
that  he  had  found,  for  these  gentle 
little  creatures  are  often  made  pets  of 
by    Texan    children. 

Finally,  his  father,  having  come  in 
very  tired  from  a  court-martial,  instead 
of  soine  as  usual  to  the  club,  sat  down 
for  a  chat  with  his  son ;  and  directly 
after,  Mrs.  Clancy,  who  had  left  him  for 
the  first  time  since  his  accident  that 
afternoon,  returned  also,  and  the  three 
enjoyed  together  the  quiet  hour  of 
fading    daylight. 


A  71  Ii7ipatient  Patient.  71 

Lulled  by  the  low  voices  of  these 
dearest  friends,  Robin  lay  half  asleep. 
He  was  fast  losing  all  consciousness  of 
his  pleasant  surroundings  when  a  sud- 
den turn  in  the  conversation  thoroughly 
aroused  him. 

"  1  had  trouble  with  one  of  the  recruits 
to-day,"  Captain  Clancy  was  saying ; 
"  nothing  to  speak  of  if  I  were  not  so 
sure  that  it 's  a  foretaste  of  what  s  to 
come.  I  had  ordered  the  man  to  be  on 
the  ground  for  target  practice  at  one 
o'clock,  and  he  was  n't  on  time.  So  I 
sent  for  the  sergeant,  who,  after  looking 
for  him,  reported  that  he  was  not  in  the 
garrison.  Lieutenant  Hall  waited  half 
an  hour  for  him ;  and  when  he  finally 
came  he  said  that  he  had  been  told 
there  was  a  letter  for  him  in  the  post- 
office,  and  had  gone  to  town  to  get  it, 
meaning  to   be   back    on    time. 


72  Robins  Recruit. 

"'  Do  you  realize  the  enormity  of  your 
offence  in  disobeying  orders  ?  '  I  asked 
him. 

"  He  looked  ugly,  but  he  answered 
respectfully  enough  that  he  had  n't 
intended    to   disobey    orders. 

"  '  How  is  that } '  said  I. 

" '  I  supposed  I  could  get  back  in 
time,'    he    answered. 

" '  Did  n't^ou  go  to  the  Merry  Mule } ' 
said  I. 

" '  Yes,'  he  admitted  ;  he  had  been 
there,  but  only  for  a  moment,  and  he 
came  away  saying  that  he  must  be  back 
to  target  practice. 

"  '  Well,'  said  I,  '  do  you  know  that  I 
can  put  you  in  the  guard-house  for  four 
months  .^  ' 

"  He  scowled  and  looked  as  black  as  a 
Texas  thunder-cloud,  but  he  kept  quiet ; 
and   I  finally  told  him  that  as  this  was 


An  ImpatieJit  Patient.  73 

his  first  offence,  if  the  Heutenant  agreed 
I  should  let  him  off." 

"  What  was  his  name,  father  ?  "  asked 
Robin. 

"  Well,  to  tell  the  truth,  it  was  your 
man  Doogan." 

Captain  Clancy  laughed  as  if  he 
thought  this  rather  a  good  joke  on 
Robin. 

"  If  't  was  that  Doogan,  Captain 
Clancy,  I  wish  you  'd  clapped  him  into 
the  guard-house  without  any  hemming 
and  hawino-,"  broke  out  Susannah,  who 
was  lio-htino-  the  wood-fire  that  made 
the  room  so  pleasant  every  evening.  "  If 
ever  a  man  had  an  evil  eye,  he  has  ;  and 
I  had  my  forbodin's  of  trouble  when  I 
first  saw  him  out  there  in  the  vard 
lookin'  at    Robin." 

"  That 's  nonsense,  Susannah,"  laughed 
the  captain  ;  "  the  man  has  done  no  harm 


74  Robi7is  Recruit. 

to  Robin  ;  but  have  patience,  and  he  '11 
get  himself  into  the  guard-house  fast 
enough,  if  that 's  what  you  want." 

"  Lor,  I  don't  niean  to  say  anything 
now,  but  just  wait  till  I  get  a-hold  of 
that  fellow." 

Susannah  snapped  her  lips  together 
as  if  she  were  afraid  that  if  the  vials  of 
wrath  she  had  ready  to  pour  upon  the 
offender  were  uncorked  they  might 
evaporate. 

"  Everybody  is  down  upon  poor  Doo- 
gan,  even  to  Susannah,  but  I  'm  sure 
he 's  a  fine  fellow,"  exclaimed  Robin. 
"  Why,  father,  he  said  he  did  n't  mean 
to  disobey  orders,  and  why  don't  you 
believe  him?  I  just  wdsh  I  could  do 
something  to  show  that  I  am  his  friend, 
and  believe  in  him.  If  you  knew  how 
good  he  was  to  me  when  he  carried  me 
home  that  day,  you  would   feel  just  as 


A 71  Impatient  Patient.  75 

I  do.  Mother,  won't  you  say  something 
kind  for  him  ?  '' 

Mrs.  Clancy  thouo-ht  with  a  shudder 
of  the  man's  hard,  bold  face  and  the 
shock  it  had  given  her  to  see  the  flower- 
like one  of  her  pretty  boy  so  near  it. 

''  Never  mind  about  the  recruit,  dar- 
line.  You  are  g^ettino;  excited,  and  that 
is  n't  orood  for  vou.  Well  then,"  she 
went  on  in  answer  to  the  beseeching 
eyes  of  Robin,  ''  perhaps  he  is  n't  as  bad 
as  we  think.  It  is  true  he  was  kind  to 
you." 

"  Not  so  bad  as  he  looks,  for  instance," 
chimed  in  Susannah.  ''  Well,  I  'm  sure  I 
hope  he  is  n't.  Robin,  else  there  is  no 
knowing  what  he  might  be  doing 
to  us." 


CHAPTER    V. 

ON     THE     CHAPARRAL. 

AT  EARLY  a  month  passed  after  Rob- 
in's  accident  before  he  was  able  to 
be  out  in  the  open  air  again.  One 
beautiful  March  day,  however,  Captain 
Clancy  ordered  the  ambulance,  and 
Robin  and  his  mother  drove  into  the 
town. 

It  was  a  poor  little  place,  with  streets 
that  straggled  out  into  the  chaparral, 
which  surrounded  it  on  all  sides.  The 
houses  were  of  one  story,  with  little 
gardens  in  front,  where  peach-trees, 
honey-suckle,  and  roses  were  blooming 
at  the  same  time,  in  a  bewildering 
fashion  to  Northern  eyes.    The  Mexican 


On  the  Chaparj^al.  J'j 

quarter  was  made  up  of  little  huts  called 
jacals,  with  a  few  feet  of  land  enclosed 
as  a  dooryard  that  w^as  never  cultivated, 
but  sometimes  kind  Nature  thrust  up  a 
Spanish  bayonet-plant  for  a  decoration, 
its  numerous  spikes  pricking  the  vivid 
blue  sky.  Everyw4iere  swarmed  the 
dark-eyed,  bare-legged,  smiling  Mexican 
children,  who  perhaps  envied  Robin  his 
seat  in  the  coach  as  much  as  he  envied 
them  their  splendid  health 

Although  the  driver  chose  his  way 
as  carefully  as  he  could,  the  jarring  of 
the  ambulance  soon  became  painful  to 
Robin,  who  begged  to  go  home  again  ; 
and  much  discouraged,  Mrs.  Clancy 
ordered  the  driver  to  return  to  the  gar- 
rison. After  this  experience  Robin 
cared    to   take   no   more   drives. 

Meantime,  the  men  of  Company  B 
had  constructed  for  his  use  a  softly  roll- 


78 


Robin  s  Recruit. 


ing  carriage,  or  chair  on  wheels.  The 
most  difficult  part  of  the  work  was  done 
by  Doogan,  who,  it  seemed,  had  all  arts 
but  that  of  making  friends. 


"  Being  wheeled  about  the  post," 

Robin  was  pleased,  not  only  by  this 
graceful  attention,  but  also  with  the 
vehicle  itself,  in  which  he  passed  many 
comfortable  hours  being  wheeled  about 
the     post.      The     soldiers    liked     being 


On  the  Chaparral.  79 

detailed  for  this  duty  ;  but  they  knew 
that  Doogan  was  the  favorite  charioteer, 
and  it  gradually  fell  entirely  to  him  to 
perform    it. 

By  degrees  Mrs.  Clancy  overcame 
her  fears  at  seeing  her  little  son  carried 
away  by  this  vicious-looking  young 
soldier;  and  left  by  themselves,  an  inti- 
macy grew  up  between  them,  —  an 
intimacy  as  between  two  congenial 
beings.  What  grace  there  was  in  the 
nature  of  Doogan,  seen  only  by  this 
child  friend,  puzzled  the  people  of  Fort 
Carey. 

One  day  when  Robin  was  beino- 
wheeled  up  and  down  in  front  of  his 
father  s  house,  the  fancy  seized  him  to 
be  taken  out  on  the  chaparral.  The  pur- 
ple frijolio,  falsely  called  laurel,  was  then 
in  blossom,  and  acres  and  acres  of  the 
blooms  burdened  the  air  with  an  almost 


8o  Robins  Recruit. 

oppressive  sweetness.  Such  a  ramble 
would  take  him  out  of  earshot  of  the 
children,  shouting  in  so  merry  a  fashion 
in  their  play  as  to  pain  Robin  with  the 
sense  of  his  own  misfortune. 

"  They  always  seem  to  be  having  an 
extra  good  time  when  I  come  by,"  said 
the  poor  little  disabled  one,  as  Doogan 
turned  off  toward  the  gate  through 
which  they  must  pass  to  get  out  on 
the  chaparral.  "  I  'm  tired  of  being  like 
this ;  I  know  I  promised  to  try  to  be 
patient,  and  I  mean  to  be,  only  I  must 
have  a  chance  to  rest  and  be  cross  now 
and   then." 

"  Suppose  I  carry  you  for  a  bit.  It 
would  make  a  change  anyhow,"  said 
Doogan ;  and  noticing  that  Robin's  face 
bricrhtened  a  little  at  the  suggestion,  he 
came  round  to  the  side  of  the  chair  and 
stooped  down  over  him.      Robin  put  his 


On  the  Chaparral.  8i 

arms  around  his  neck,  and  smiled  as 
he  felt  himself  lifted  to  the  height  of 
Doogan's    shoulder. 

"  You  're  so  good,  Doogan,  I  ought  n't 
to  fret  so,"  said  Robin  ;  "  but  if  a  fellow 
is  going  to  be  sick,  he  ought  to  be 
brought  up  to  it,  and  not  have  it  sprung 
on  him  all  at  once."  His  arm  tight- 
ened around  Doogan's  neck,  and  he 
went  on  in  a  half  whisper,  "  I  never 
thought  I  'd  be  like  this.  I  always 
thought  sick  people  were  so  tiresome. 
There  was  poor  Huckins.  You  never 
saw  him,  cause  he  died  before  you  came, 
but  he  was  out  in  Dakota,  and  he  used 
to  cough  dreadfully,  and  it  always  made 
me  feel  cross.  It  seemed  as  if  he  did  it 
on  purpose,  you  know.  When  we  were 
ordered  to  Texas  he  thou2:ht  he  should 
get  over  it,  but  he  died  just  a  little  while 
after    he    got    here.      I    was    sorry   then 


82  Robins  Recruit. 

that  I  had  n't  been  kinder  to  him,  but 
it 's  no  good  to  be  sorry  unless  you  are 
sorry  at  the  right  time." 

"  I  would  n't  think  on  such  oncheerful 
subjicts,"  advised  Doogan;  and  glancing 
at  the  sweet  face,  showing  so  white  upon 
the  dark  blue  of  his  blouse,  he  added, 
"  If  I  only  could  give  you  a  part  of  my 
strength.  Captain  Robin,  you  'd  see  how 
quick  I  'd  do  it." 

"  Why,  you  are  giving  it  to  me.  Are  n't 
your  legs  carrying  both  of  us  ?  I  feel 
almost  as  if  they  were  partly  mine,  you 
let  me  have  'em  so  often.  Good  legs," 
said  Robin,  with  a  glance  downward  that 
Susannah  would  certainly  have  called 
sentimental.  "  The  first  time  I  ever  saw 
'em  —  when  I  picked  'em  out  among  a 
lot  of  crooked,  knock-kneed,  slouchy  ones 
—  I  did  n't  think  they  would  ever  carry 
me  about  on  this  chaparral.     You  know 


On  the  Chaparral.  ^^-^ 

I  fell  in  love  with  you,  Doogan,  at  first 
sight." 

"  Some  might  say  you  was  easily 
pleased,"  said  Doogan,  grinning.  "  But 
now  tell  me,  Captain  Robin,  if  there  ain't 
some  other  way  you  might  make  use  o' 
my  strength.  What  do  you  want  to  do 
that  you  ain't  strong  enough  for?  " 

"  Let  me  see,"  said  Robin,  reflectively  ; 
"  well,  you  know  the  lone-stars  are  out 
now, — the  parade-ground  is  just  covered 
with  them,  —  and  I  would  like  to  gather 
a  bunch  of  them  every  morning  for 
Susannah,  as  I  did  last  year.  Nobody 
ever  sends  Susannah  flowers." 

"  Lord,  I  should  n't  think  they  would  !  " 
ejaculated  Doogan,  vv^ho  admired  Susan- 
nah no  more  than  she  admired  him.  ''  I  'd 
as  soon  think  of  sendin'  flowers  to  a  gov- 
ernment mule.  However,  if  't  will  please 
you,  Captain  Robin,  I  '11  pick  them  stars 


84  Robins  Recruit, 

as  willin'  for  her  as  a  feller  would  for  his 
sweetheart.    An'  now  what  else  is  there  ?  " 
Robin  laughed  rather  roguishly,  and 
then  said,  — 

^'  I  was  thinking  yesterday  that  if  I 
was  only  well  again,  I  'd  sometimes  on 
washing-days  take  Mary  Corrigan's  baby 
out  in  its  carriage;' 

Dooo-an  looked  blank  at  this,  and 
said,  "  Well,  I  should  smile  !  Ain't  Ser- 
geant Corrigan  the  strength  to  trot  round 
his  own  kids  ?  " 

''  Yes,  but  I  should  like  to  do  it  for 
Mary.  I  remember  that  time  she  asked 
me  I  didn't  exactly  —  " 

"  Hanker  after  the  job,"  put  in  Doogan. 
"  That 's  it.  I  did  n't  exactly  hanker 
after  the  job,"  repeated  Robin.  "  I 
remember  I  thought  that  babies  were  a 
great  nuisance;  but  of  course  if  there 
are  n't  any  babies,  there  won't    be    any 


On  the  Chaparral.  85 

boys  and  men ;  and  then,  we  all  had  to 
be  taken  care  of  ourselves  once  —  even 
you,  Doogan.  When  I  was  a  baby,  Mary 
Corrigan  must  have  taken  me  out  no 
end  of  times,  and  so   I  'd  like  to  —  " 

"  Return  the  favor,  as  't  were,"  Doo- 
gan suggested.  "  Well,  I  see  how  't  is. 
But  that  baby  o'  Corrigan's  is  a  terror. 
I  saw  it  yesterday,  an'  it  was  flappin'  its 
mouth  together  like  a  horn-pout.  It 
makes  me  sick  to  look  at  it.  However, 
you  Ve  but  to  say  the  word,  an'  I  '11  be 
like  a  lovin'  mother  to  it." 

"  Doogan,  what  a  good  old  fellow  you 
are ! "  Robin  burst  out.  "  But  I  was 
in  fun.  It  was  just  a  test.  Don't  you 
know  in  the  fairy-stories  how  the  prince 
has  to  be  willing  to  do  all  sorts  of  hard 
things  as  a  test  of  his  love  for  the  prin- 
cess .^  I  wouldn't  really  have  you  do  it 
for  anything,  the  men  would  laugh  so. 


86  Robins  Recruit. 

I  'm  not  going  to   have  the    men  laugh 
at  you." 

"  Laugh  at  me  !  They  are  n't  so  howl- 
ing anxious  for  a  quarrel,"  said  Doogan, 
grimly ;  and,  in  truth,  there  were  few 
among  the  soldiers  that  cared  to  measure 
their  strength  with  this  young  giant. 
"  An'    what      else      are      you      wantin' 

streno^th  for.^       Now  no  more  o'  them 
•J 

tests." 

"Well,  there's  poor  Huckins,  you 
know." 

"  Huckins  !  well,  he  's  dead  an'  buried," 
Doogan  answered  cheerfully. 

"  Yes  ;  he  's  buried  over  there  in  the 
soldiers'  cemetery  with  stones  over  his 
grave,  and  only  a  rickety  wooden  cross 
to  shovv^  where  he  lies.  He  was  a  good 
brave  soldier,  Doogan,  and  sometimes  I 
would  like  to  go  up  there,  and  put  some 
flowers  around,  to  show  that  he  was  n't 
forgotten." 


Oil  the  Chaparral.  87 

"  Well,  now,  that  sort  of  work  is  jest 
in  my  line,  bein'  in  the  sentimental  busi- 
ness at  present."  Doogan  laughed  with 
that  low,  orood-humored  chuckle  of  his 
that  no  one  but  Robin  ever  heard.  "  I 
will  go  up  there  to-morrow,  an'  sprinkle 
about  a  few  o'  them  lone-stars  I  shall 
gather  for  my  sweetheart,  —  the  beaute- 
ous Susannah." 

"  Oh,  but  you  must  n't !  You  must  n't 
call  her  that,"  interrupted  Robin,  looking 
over  Doogan's  shoulder  as  if  he  expected 
to  see  the  wrathful  face  of  Susannah 
behind  them. 

''  I  '11  sprinkle  'em  on  one  of  the  graves 
up  there,  and  it 's  as  likely  to  be  Huck- 
inses  as  anybody's."  Doogan  went  on : 
"  Or  if  you  would  like,  Captain  Robin, 
I  '11  take  you  up  there  yourself,  an'  you 
can  point  out  the  right  one  to  me,  though 
I  'm    not    in    favor    of    your     bein'    in 


88  Robins  Recruit, 

them  lonely  spots.  But  anyhow,  now 
it's  time  I  was  a-takin'  you  home,  or  the 
folks  there  '11  be  a-makin'  up  their  minds 
that  I  'm  a-murderin'  you." 

The  following  morning,  as  Robin  was 
lying  on  the  sofa  in  the  parlor,  Susannah 
brought  in  a  huge  bunch  of  lone-stars, 
which,  in  high  dudgeon,  she  flung  into 
his  lap. 

"Your  beautiful  Doogan  has  just 
brought  'em,"  she  said  ;  "  the  imperdent 
thing  came  here,  grinning  like  a  chessy 
cat,  and  said  they  was  for  me." 

"  They  are  for  you,  but  they  are  n't 
exactly  from  Doogan.  You  see,  Susan- 
nah, Doogan  feels  sorry  for  me  because 
I  'm  not  strong  enough  to  do  anything, 
and  he  says  I  shall  have  part  of  his 
streno-th.  I  'm  to  call  it  mine,  he  says, 
and  use  it  just  as  I  want  to,  and  I  told 
him  I  euessed  I  'd  use  a  little  to  get  these 
lone-stars  for  you." 


On  the  Chaparral.  89 

Robin  held  out  the  flowers  entreat- 
ing])-, but  Susannah  would  not  look  at 
them,  and  answered  sharply,  — 

"  I  ain't  going  to  have  any  man  sprawl- 
ing  round  on  the  parade-ground,  picking 
flowers  for  me.  I  've  had  plenty  to  hum- 
ble my  pride  in  my  time,  but  I  ain't  sunk 
so  low  yet  as  that." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  sink  low.  If  you 
feel  so,  I  '11  tell  Doos^an  not  to  brino;  anv 
more,"  said  Robin.  ''  I  "ve  always  got 
them  for  you,  though,  ever  since  we  've 
been  at  Fort  Carev,  and  I  thouo:ht 
you  'd  miss  them  this  year." 

''And  so  I  would,  Robin,"  cried  Susan- 
nah, dropping  her  easterly  tone,  and 
suddenly  veering  round  into  a  warm, 
comfortable  quarter  ;  "  lone-stars  is  lone- 
stars,  whoever  picks  em.  and  I  11  put 
these  now  in  water,  with  many  thanks 
to   you." 


90 


Robins  Recruit, 


I  ain't  going  to  have  any  man  sprawling  on  the  parade- 
ground,  picking  flowers  for  me.''^ 


On  the  C/iaparral.  91 

As  long  as  the  lone-stars  bloomed,  a 
bunch  came  regularly  each  morning  for 
Susannah,  who  greeted  their  sweet,  pure 
faces  with  a  wry  one  of  her  own,  no  doubt, 
but,  for  love  of  Robin,  meekly  accepted 
them. 

A  norther  that  had  sprung  up  in  the 
night  prevented  Robin  from  going  out 
the  next  morning,  and  after  that  a  bad 
cold  confined  him  for  several  days  to  the 
house,  so  that  a  long  time  passed  before 
he  again  saw  Doogan. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


A    SAD    BIRTHDAY. 


TT  was  directly  after  breakfast,  and 
Robin  had  been  comfortably  settled 
on  his  sofa,  while  his  mother,  with  her 
pretty  fancy-work  in  hand,  sat  devotedly 
near,  ready  to  be  as  amusing  as  she 
knew  how. 

To  furnish  entertainment  for  such 
long  periods  is  a  good  deal  of  a  tax 
on  one's  ingenuity,  and  Mrs.  Clancy 
was  thankful  for  a  sudden  interest  on 
Robin's  part  in  her  own  work.  She 
even  submitted  to  his  rather  rough 
handling  of  her  delicate  materials,  while 
he  investigated  the  process  of  making 
a    handkerchief-case. 


A   Sad  Birthday.  93 

"  Who  is  it  for,  anyhow  ?  "  he  asked  at 
length,  sniffing  vigorously  at  the  helio- 
trope powder  that  was  to  scent  the  sides 
of  the  case.  "  I  never  had  one  of  these, 
and  I  think  it's  because  I  never  had 
such  a  good  place  to  keep  'em  in  that  I 
lose  so  manv  of  mv  handkerchiefs." 

"  You  shall  have  one,  if  you  would  like 
it,"  said  ]\lrs.  Clancy.  There  were  few 
thino^s  this  tender  little  mother  would 
refuse  her  poor  boy  at  that  time.  ''  But 
this  one  is  for  Lieutenant  Plall.  He  is 
to  have  a  birthday  next  week,  and  it 's 
pleasant,  you  know,  to  have  your  friends 
remember  you  on  that  day." 

Robin  assented  to  this.  He  was  think- 
ing that  when  once  he  had  given  Doogan 
a  photograph  of  himself  he  had  remarked 
that  no  one  before  had  ever  made  him  a 
present.  Robin  did  not  consider  a  pho- 
tograph a  present  at  all. 


94  Robin  s  Recruit. 

"  Mother,"  he  said,  "  it 's  going  to  be 
Doogan's  birthday  next  week  too,  and  I 
want  to  make  him  a  present." 

Mrs.  Clancy  gave  instant  consent  to 
this  plan,  looking  upon  the  gift  as  an 
acknowledgment  of  the  kindness  Doo- 
gan  had  shown  him. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  wish  to  do  it  for  that !  " 
Robin  protested ;  "  we  're  friends,  you 
know.  But  it 's  just  as  you  said  w4ien 
you  were  speaking  of  Lieutenant  Hall, 
pleasant  to  have  your  friends  remember 
you.  I  want  to  give  him  something  nice, 
though." 

"  Have  you  thought  of  anything  in 
particular?  It's  rather  hard  to  select 
a  present  for  Doogan." 

"  No,  I  don't  think  it  is  at  all.  I  should 
give  him  just  what  I  'd  give  anybody  — 
any  other  friend." 

"  I  would  give  him  the  money,  Robin, 


A   Sad  Birthday.  95 

and  let  him  select  something  to  please 
himself,"  his  mother  advised ;  but  Robin 
shook  his  head  decidedly,  and  asked, — 

"  Why  did  n't  you  give  the  money  to 
Lieutenant  Hall,  and  let  him  select  his 
present  ?  " 

Mrs.  Clancy  laughed  at  this,  and  the 
captain  threw  in  the  suggestion  that 
Robin  should  buy  a  bag  of  tobacco,  as  a 
gift  Doogan  would  be  likely  to  appreciate. 

"  I  think  he  might  like  a  pipe,  perhaps," 
said  his  mother.  "  Would  you  like  to 
give  him  that,  Robin  }  " 

But  this  proposal,  with  its  patronizing 
assumption  of  Doogan's  want  of  taste 
for  the  niceties  of  life,  much  displeased 
Robin,  who  waved  it  away  in  silent  scorn, 
and  sat  looking  so  significantly  at  the 
handkerchief-case  that  it  was  an  easy 
matter  for  his  mother  to  read  his  thoueht. 

"  Do  you  think  it  would  make  a  suit- 


96  Robins  Recruit. 

able  present  for  him  ?  "  she  said  merril}^ 
holding  up  her  dainty  work,  while  his 
father  roared,  and  Robin,  too,  joined  in 
the  laugh.    . 

He  laughed,  however,  merely  because 
the  others  laughed,  and  not  at  all  because 
he  appreciated  the  joke.  He  thought 
the  handkerchief-case  none  too  fine  for 
his  friend,  and  his  mind  was  not  to  be 
shaken  by  sarcasm. 

"  You  promised  me  one,  mother,"  he 
said  earnestly,  "  and  I  shall  take  it  for 
Doogan.  I  mean  to  pay  for  all  the 
things,  though,  myself,  with  the  dollar 
father  Qrave  me  for  not  makino-  a  row 
when  the  doctor  examined  my  back.  I 
shall  have  it  made  of  white  satin,  with 
rosebuds  embroidered  on  it  like  this  one, 
white  lace  round  the  edge,  and  pink  bows 
in  the  corners,  and  plenty  of  the  smelly 
stuff  inside." 


A   Sad  Birthday.  97 

They  laughed  again,  and  the  captain 
said  there  ought  to  be  a  Shakspearian 
quotation  somewhere,  as  Doogan  was, 
no  doubt,  a  lover  of  poetry ;  to  which 
jest  Robin  replied  stanchly  that  Doogan 
liked  poetry  as  w^ell  as  anybody. 

Perseverance  met  with  its  just  reward, 
and  the  day  before  Doogan 's  birthday, 
such  a  handkerchief-case  as  Robin  had 
described  w^as  wrapped  up  by  him,  with 
a  card  inside  bearing  his  name  and  good 
W'ishes.  It  was  a  delicate,  dainty  thing, 
"  jest  fit  to  give  to  a  bride,"  as  Susannah 
said,  with  a  disapproving  sniff.  Even 
Susannah  had  contributed  to  the  celebra- 
tion of  Doogan's  birthday,  having  been 
wheedled  into  making  for  him  a  birthday 
cake. 

"  I  've  no  doubt  he  11  know  wliat  to  do 
with  this,"  she  said,  as  she  brought  the 
cake  in  on  a  plate   for   Robin's  pleased 


98  Robins  Recruit. 

inspection  ;  ",but  as  for  the  bridal  off erin  , 
he  's  as  likely  as  not  to  keep  his  baccy 
in  it.  I  guess  the  men  '11  laugh  some 
when  they  see  him  with  that  flimflam 
thing." 

"  Well,  it  will  be  behind  Doogan's 
back,  then,"  answered  Robin,  to  whom 
this  view  of  the  subject  was  new ;  "  and, 
anyhow^  Doogan  won't  care.  He  is  n't 
afraid  of  the  men,  and  he  11  be  pleased 
to  have  his  birthday  remembered." 

The  following  morning  was  fair,  with 
a  soft  breeze  blowing  from  the  chaparral, 
and  it  was  decided  that  Robin  might 
venture  out  of  doors  again.  He  knew 
Doosan  would  come  to  wheel  his  chair, 
and  this  would  afford  a  fine  opportunity 
of  presenting  the  case  and  the  cake. 
In  anticipation  of  this  pleasure,  he 
ate  his  breakfast  in  high  spirits.  Be- 
fore  he   had    left    the    table.   Sergeant 


A   Sad  Birtliday.  99 

Corrigan  came  in  to  make  his  customary 
morning  report  to  the  captain,  who  was 
writino;  at  his  desk  in  the  corner  of  the 
dining-room. 

As  he  stood,  cap  in  hand,  before  Cap- 
tain Clancy,  he  glanced  uneasily  at  Robin, 
who  was  smiling  at  him,  in  that  warm, 
sunny  fashion  of  his ;  then  he  dropped 
his  eyes,  and  said  in  a  low  voice,  — 

"  I  confined  Private  Doogan,  sir,  last 
night,  by  order  of  the  lieutenant." 

"Confined  whom?''  asked  the  cap- 
tain ;  "  speak  a  little  louder.  Sergeant." 

"  Private  Doogan,  sir." 

"  What  for  ?  " 

"  For  drunkenness  and  disorderly 
conduct." 

At  this  point,  poor  Corrigan  cast 
another  o-lance  at  Robin,  who  had 
dropped  his  fork,  and  was  staring  at 
him  with  wide-open    eyes. 


lOO  Robins  Recruit. 

"  I  heard  a  noise  down  by  the  guard- 
house, about  eleven  o'  clock.  Was  that 
the  time  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  He  fought  like  a  tiger. 
The  officer  of  the  day,  hearing  the  noise, 
came  up,  and  we  had  quite  a  tussle  to 
get  him  into  the  guard-house.  Before 
that,  he  had  been  trying  to  get  through 
the  gate  down  by  the  Plunkett  road, 
bein'  too  drunk  to  know  rightly  what  he 
was  about ;  and  in  my  opinion,  sir,  he 
has  been  fixing  for  some  time  to  desert. 
I  know  he  hates  it  out  here  like  poison, 
and  he  has  been  heard  to  say  that  no 
one  but  a  fool  would  be  bamboozled 
about  like    an    enlisted    man." 

When  the  sergeant,  having  finished 
his  report,  had  saluted  and  departed, 
Captain  Clancy  threw  down  his  pen, 
saying    to    Robin,  — 

"  Well,  boy,  your  recruit  is  a  bad  lot, 
after  all,  is  n't  he  ?  " 


A   Sad  Birthday. 


lOI 


Then  turning,  so  as  to  get  a  glimpse 
of  Robin's  face,  he  got  up,  and  leaning 
over  him,  said  gendy, — 


"  He  had  laid  his  head  on  his  arms,  trying  to  hide  his 
mortification." 

"  Why,   Robin,   boy,    do    you    feel    so 
badly  as    all    this  ?  " 

For  he  had  laid  his  head  on  his  arms, 


I02  Robins  Recruit. 

trying  to  hide  his  mortification  and 
sorrow. 

The  bright  morning  sunshine  was 
darkened  for  him  with  the  thought  of 
Doogan's  twentieth  birthday  passed  in 
the  grim  old  guard-house.  Beside  the 
pity  he  felt  for  his  friend  was  a  deep 
sense  of  chaorin  that  his  chosen  recruit 
should  prove  guilty  of  such  offences. 
His  hero  was  disgraced,  drunken,  and 
thrown  down  from  that  pedestal  upon 
which  he  had  so  greatly  admired  him. 
The  "  bridal  offering  "  seemed  to  mock 
at  his  disappointment,  and  he  felt  like 
hiding  at  home  all  day,  rather  than  hear 
the  jokes  that  would  be  made  upon  his 
own  misplaced  confidence. 

But  Robin  was  too  hopeful  a  little  soul 
to  persist  long  in  this  dark  mood.  Doo- 
gan  had  fallen,  but  he  was  too  good  — 
Robin  was  sure  he  was  too  good  —  not 
to  stagger  to  his  poor  feet  again  ;  and  the 


A   Sad  Birthday,  103 

part  of  his  best  friend  was  to  be  hopeful 
of  the  future. 

As  to  that  insinuation  of  Sersreant  Cor- 
rigan  that  the  recruit  had  meant  to  desert, 
he  did  not  believe  a  word  of  it. 

It  was  on  the  following  day  that  Robin, 
being  wheeled  around  the  post  by  Hooley, 
who  had  been  detailed  for  this  duty  in 
Doogan's  place,  came  upon  the  poor  boy 
with  some  of  the  other  prisoners  at  work 
on  the  road.  To  see  him  thus,  guarded 
by  a  sentinel  with  a  bayonet  over  his 
shoulder,  as  the  custom  is,  was  enough 
to  make  one's  best  friend  wince ;  but 
thinking  life  was  dark  enough  for  the  poor 
fellow  just  then,  without  black  looks, 
Robin  forced  as  cheerful  a  smile  as  he 
could  ;  and  how  was  Doogan  to  know  that 
tears  would  have  come  easier?  Robin 
thought  if  he  could  only  stop  and  say 
something  pleasant   to   him,  he   himself 


I04 


Robin  s  Recruit, 


would  feel  happier ;  but  that,  of  course, 
would  not  be  permitted,  and  he  went 
home  in  a  sad  mood  that  ended  in  tears, 


■  "  Was  enough  to  make  one's  best  friend  wince." 

and    he    passed    a    feverish    night     in 
consequence. 

Dr.  Bemis  grumbled  bitterly  over  this 


A   Sad  Birthday,  105 

state  of  affairs,  when  he  came  in  the  next 
morning  to  see  Robin,  and  he  wondered, 
as  every  one  did,  why  he  should  be  so 
fond  of  this  unpromising  young  soldier. 

Robin  finally  unburdened  his  heart  in 
a  lone  letter,  which  he  found  means  of 
sending  to   Doogan. 

My  dear  Doogan  (he  wrote), —  I  must 
write  to  tell  you  how  much  I  miss  you,  and 
how  I  think  of  you  all  the  time.  Each  morn- 
ing, when  the  gun  is  fired,  I  blow  a  kiss  to 
you.  I  suppose  this  is  sentimental,  for  Su- 
sannah says  so ;  but  I  don't  think  it 's  wicked 
to  be  sentimental,  though  I  think  Susannah 
does. 

I  don't  feel  quite  as  well  as  I  did.  I  shall 
feel  better,  I  think,  when  I  see  you  again. 
Hooley  takes  me  out  every  day,  but  he  is  n't 
strong  enough  to  carry  me. 

How  are  our  legs  ? 

What  I  started  to  tell  you  was  that  I  don't 
believe  that  you  meant  to  desert  that  time  you 
were  trying  to  get  through  the  gate.     I  shall 


io6  Robin's  Recruit. 

always  stick  to  you.  I  hope  you  will  stick  to 
me,  but,  anyhow,  I  shall  always  stick  to  you. 
I  know  you  would  never  desert,  but  I  'd  like  to 
hear  you  say  so,  and  if,  the  next  time  I  see  you, 
you  '11  just  cough,  I  '11  take  it  as  a  promise, 
and  shall  feel  better. 

Many  fine  books  have  been  written  in  prison. 
Why  don't  you  write  one?  But  perhaps  you 
have. 

Your  faithful  friend, 

Robin. 

Waking  from  his  heavy  sleep  on  the 
morning  of  his  twentieth  birthday,  and 
finding  himself  in  the  guard-house,  Doo- 
p-an  recalled  the  train  of  events  that  had 
brouo-ht  him  there,  and  desperate 
thoughts  filled  his  mind.  Although  it 
is  true  that  a  soldier's  life,  with  its  neces- 
sary restraint,  w^as  most  distasteful  to 
him,  he  had  never  intended  to  desert. 
Throuo-h  all  his  life,  it  had  been  the 
poor  boy's  fate  to  be  suspected  of  wrong- 


A   Sad  Birthday.  107 

doing  in  advance  of  the  intent,  and  it 
had  generally  ended  in  his  justifying 
expectation. 

Alone  in  his  cell  in  the  guard-house, 
one  night,  the  silence  broken  only  by 
the  tread  of  the  sentinel  pacing  back  and 
forth  outside,  he  made  up  his  mind  that 
as  soon  as  the  opportunity  showed  itself, 
he  would  be  guilty  of  the  very  act  of 
which  he  had  been  suspected.  His  hot 
young  blood  boiled  with  resentment  and 
anger  against  those  who  had  power  to 
confine  him  here,  "  like  a  rat  in  a  trap," 
as  he  angrily  told  himself.  With  bitter- 
ness he  remembered  the  hostility  the  men 
had  always  shown  him,  and  he  felt  that 
he  would  be  glad  never  again  to  lay  eyes 
on  one  human  beino^  he  had  known  at 
Fort  Carey. 

But  everv  time  he  said  this  to  himself, 
a   gentle  child-face  seemed    to    emerge 


io8  Robins  Recruit. 

from  the  gray  shadows  of  the  place,  and 
break  into  that  slow,  warm,  magnetic 
smile  that  he  knew  so  well,  until  young 
Doogan  would  turn  impatiently  away, 
with  his  hand  over  his  eyes,  trying  to 
shut  out  that  little  face,  and  stifle  the 
memory  of  the  child  that  loved  him. 

It  was  when  this  determination  to 
escape  from  Fort  Carey  was  strongest 
that  Robin's  note  reached  him.  Doogan 
read  it  slowly  and  with  difficulty,  but 
words  of  kindness  and  affection  did  not 
reach  him  so  often  that  he  could  afford 
to  miss  any  of  them. 

"  Lord  !  he  's  a  queer  little  chap,"  he 
said,  smiling  to  himself,  as  he  folded  the 
letter  up.  "  'T  would  go  hard  with  him 
if  I  was  to  take  Scotch  leave  o'  Company 
B,  an'  I  believe  I  '11  hang  on  a  bit  longer 
for  the  sake  of  him." 

But,  deep  down  in  his  heart,  Doogan 


A   Sad  Bh^thday.  109 

knew  that  he  should  disappoint  that 
loving  trust    in    the   end. 

It  so  happened  that,  the  very  next  day, 
while  he  was  at  work,  Robin,  wheeled 
by  Hooley  and  attended  by  a  cavalcade 
of  children,  came  by. 

As  Robin  saw  his  friend,  two  red  spots 
flew  into  his  cheeks. 

"  Go  slow,"  he  said  to  Hooley,  and 
Hooley  obeyed.  As  they  passed  in 
front  of  the  poor  lad,  it  seemed  to  him 
that  they  came  to  a  full  stop.  He  caught 
his  breath  with  a  gasp,  as  for  a  moment 
his  glance  fell  upon  Robin's  raised  face ; 
it  looked  so  much  smaller  and  whiter 
than  he  remembered  it.  The  s^reat  brown 
eyes  were  full  of  entreaty,  and  seemed  to 
say, — 

"  Stick  by  me,  Doogan  !  Promise 
never   to   desert." 

Then  he  dropped  his  head,  and  went 


no  Robins  Recruit, 

busily  on  with   his   work,  while   Hooley 
quickened  his  pace,  saying,  — 

"  Sure,  that 's  a  terrible  cough  Doo- 
san  s  got  on  him.  The  air  of  the 
euarcl-house  don't  a^ree  with  his  deli- 
cate    constitution." 


CHAPTER  VII. 
doogan's  story. 

ON  Doogan's  release  from  the  guard- 
house, a  week  later,  he  found  there 
had  been  no  improvement  in  Robin's 
condition,  and  he  seemed  very  feeble 
and  worn. 

The  summer  heat  was  now  coming  on, 
—  the  dry,  breathless  heat  of  southern 
Texas,  —  and  the  doctor  declared  that 
Robin  would  not  be  able  to  bear  the 
summer  at  Fort  Carey. 

Captain  Clancy  had  sent  in  an  appli- 
cation for  a  leave  of  absence  ;  and  in  case 
of  a  refusal  it  had  been  decided  that  he 
should  take  his  meals  at  the  bachelors' 
mess,  and  that  Mrs.  Clancy  and  Susan- 


1 1 2  Robins  Recruit. 

nah  should  take  Robin  north  ;  but  Robin 
himself  had  heard  nothing  of  these 
plans. 

In  his  quiet  life,  unable  to  join  in  the 
pleasures  of  the  other  children,  his  chief 
interest   seemed    to    be    in    his    recruit. 
Nothing  pleased  him  so  much  as  a  good 
report  of  Doogan.     When   Doogan  dis- 
tinguished himself  at  target-practice,  by 
his  fine  shooting  sending  B  Company's 
averao-e   hio-her   than   it   had   ever  been 
on  anv  vear  he  could  remember,  Robin 
had    swelled   with   pride,       A  hint  that 
Doogan  was  drinking  again,  or  in  any 
disgrace,  sent  his  spirits  down  to  zero,  so 
that  care  was  taken  that  when  the  ser- 
geant made  his  daily  report   to   Captain 
Clancy,  Robin  should  never  be  present. 
Nearly  every  day,   either    in   the    early 
morning  or  late  in. the  afternoon,  Doogan 
and  Robin  enjoyed  each  other's  company, 


Dooga7is  Story.  1 1 3 

and  the  figure  of  the  soldier  striding 
about  the  garrison  with  the  boy  in  his 
arms,  his  curly  head  resting  on  the  big 
fellow's  shoulder,  became  a  familiar  sight. 

One  afternoon,  when  they  were  sitting 
by  the  disused  blacksmith's  shop,  on  the 
edge  of  the  post,  Robin  learned  his 
friend's  early  history. 

On  the  previous  evening,  Robin  had 
heard  shouts  of  laughter  at  B  Company's 
barracks,  and  now  asked  Doogan  the 
cause  of   it. 

"  The  men  were  a-givin'  their  previous 
histories,"  answered  Doogan,  laughing  a 
little,  as  if  the  recollection  was  amusing. 

"  I  wish  I  could  have  been  there,"  said 
Robin. 

"  'T  warn't  worth  hearin' ;  an'  them 
barracks  ain't  a  good  place,  anyway,  for 
a  little  chap  like  you,"  replied  Doogan. 

"  I  've  had  lots  of  good  times,  anyhow, 


114 


Robin  s  Recruit. 


*'  Sitting  by  the  disused  blacksmith's  sho]j. 


Doogans  Story.  115 

down  at  the  barracks.     The   men  were 
always  good  to  me,   Doogan." 

"  Lord !  I  should  think  so.  Why 
should  n't  they  be  .^  "  said  Doogan,  taking 
the  boy's  wrist,  and  gently  slapping  the 
soft  hand  upon  his  own  great  paw. 
"  Well,  if  I  only  could  remember  what 
those  fools  said,  I  'd  try  and  tell  yer." 

"  You  can  remember  what  yoit  said. 
I  wish  you  'd  tell  me  your  history, 
Doogan." 

''  Oh,  they  was  only  a-foolin\  They 
was  all  yarns." 

"  I  should  want  vou  to  tell  me  honest 
and  true,  of  course.  Won't  you  tell  it 
to  me,  Doogan  .^  " 

"  It  ain't  worth  tellin',  Captain  Robin, 
an'  't  would  n't  be  fit  fer  yer  to  hear,  an' 
I  don't  want  to  deceive  yer,"  was  the 
answer. 

Robin  turned  wearily  in  Dooo'an's 
arms,   and    sis^hed. 


ii6  Robins   Recruit. 

"  It  does  n't  seem  as  if  I  could  ever 
have  anything  I  want  nowadays.  Dear 
Doogan,"  he  urged,  with  the  persistence 
of  sickness,  "  please  tell  me  the  story." 

A  hot  color  spread  suddenly  over  the 
young  soldier  s  face,  as  for  a  moment  he 
looked  into  Robin's  pleading  eyes.  Then 
he  said  slowly,  — 

"  Well,   I  'm  goin'  to  tell   yer  honest 
an'   true,  as    yer    say,  what    I  've    never 
told  to  any  one.     There  never  was  any 
one    before   't  would   believe    me,  but    1 
know    you    will.     'T  won't    be    a   pretty 
story,  though.     There  ain't  any  fairy  god- 
mothers in  it,  an'  no  Sunday-schools,  an' 
nothin'  instructive,  but  I  reckon  't  won't 
do   yer    no   harm.     But   first    yer   must 
promise  yer  ain't  never  goin'  to  tell  it  to 
anybody." 

"  Yes ;  I  promise  you  that,  Doogan.  I 
want  you  to  begin  at  the  time  when  you 
were  no  bigger  than  I  am." 


Doogans  Story-  1 1 7 

"  When  I  was  a  little  feller  like  you,  I 
worked  fer  a  man  who  had  a  big  farm  in 
New  England,"  began  Doogan. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  live  with  your  father 
and  mother  ?  "  asked  Robin. 

"  Well,  fer  a  pretty  good  reason,  —  they 
was  both  dead  and  buried  ;  and  though 
't  would  have  been  better  fer  me,  perhaps, 
to  have  gone  along  with  em,  't  warn't  so 
arranged.  My  father  left  nothin'  fer  me 
but  a  bad  name,  an'  my  mother  warn't  a 
leader  of  society,  by  no  means ;  an'  when 
she  died  too,  there  warn  t  no  rich  rela- 
tions to  come  forads  to  take  care  of  me, 
an'  so  I  fell  on  the  town.  That  ain't  the 
best  sort  of  luck  fer  a  baby.  Captain 
Robin.  Yer  see  I  did  n't  have  a  very 
genteel  send-off,  an'  I  've  never  been 
genteel  since.  The  town  was  n't  any 
more  fond  o'  me  'n  I  was  of  the  town  ;  an' 
jest  as  soon  as  it  could,  it  got  rid  o'  me, 


ii8  Robins  Recruit. 

and  bound  me  over  (I  was  jest  about 
your  age  then)  to  the  man  I  started  in 
by  tellin'  yer  about.  I  was  n't  an  angel 
of  virtue,  I  reckon,  an'  the  town  authori- 
ties thought  mebbe  they  could  n't  be  too 
perticuler  as  to  the  sort  o'  man  they  was 
to  ship  me  onto.  At  any  rate,  old  Monks 
—  that  was  the  feller's  name  —  was  the 
hardest  cove  I  ever  come  across,  an'  I 
ain't  been  accustomed  to  the  society  o' 
the  pillers  o'  the  church,  by  no  means." 

A  fierce  look  gleamed  in  Doogan's 
black  eyes,  and  he  breathed  hard  ;  but  in 
a  moment  he  took  up  Robin's  little  hand 
again,  and  went  on  calmly, — 

"  Well,  yer  could  n't  expect  him  to  be 
a  fond  parient  to  me,  when  he  had 
nearly  killed  his  own  son  by  hard  w^ork. 
I  never  w^ondered  that  the  feller  had  run 
away,  an'  used  to  think  (that  is,  when  I 
grew  bigger,  for  I  'm  w^ay  back  now  when 


Doogans  Story-  119 

I  was  fust  with  him,  —  a  lazy,  wild  Httle 
cub,  no  older  ^n  you  are)  I  would  run 
away  too.  He  was  bound  to  get  every 
cent  out  of  me  that  my  livin'  cost  him, 
an'  he  managed  to  do  it  ;  fer  there  was 
always  the  horsewhip,  if  I  stopped  work- 
in',  to  lash  me  along  on  the  path  o'  dooty. 
Many  a  time  he  thrashed  me  till  his 
poor,  scared  little  wife  would  cry,  an'  beg 
an'  beg  him  to  stop.  As  for  cryin', 
though,  that  was  the  pleasure  of  her  life, 
an'  all  the  one  she  ever  got.  She  took 
solid  comfort  that  way,  an'  she  'd  set  an' 
cry,  an'  set  an'  cry,  an'  set  an'  cry,  cry,  cry. 
She  said  the  sight  of  me  a-workin'out  in 
the  fields  along  with  him  reminded  her  of 
her  boy,  an'  't  was  that  what  made  her  cr}-. 
"Well,  I  worked  hard  enough,  I  can 
tell  yer,  Captain  Robin,  an'  all  the  reward 
I  ever  got  was  cuffs  an'  kicks.  Often 
an'  often,  at  night,  I  'd  crawl  up  into  the 


I  20  Robin  s  Recruit. 

loft  where  I  slept,  and  cry  with  rage  that 
I  was  n't  strong  enough  to  turn  round 
an'  thrash  old  Monks  as  he  deserved,  — 
fer  there  was  wild  blood  in  me  that  turned 
hot  at  a  blow." 

"  Poor  little  Doogan ! "  murmured 
Robin,  pressing  his  soft  cheek  lovingly 
against  the  rough  face  of  the  recruit,  who 
laughed  in  answer,  though  he  drew  the 
child  closer  to  him,  as  he  went  on,  — 

"  Of  course  I  hated  him.  I  remem- 
ber now  how,  when  I  was  a-choppin' 
wood,  fer  instance,  I  'd  fancy  \  was  him 
I  was  a-hackin'  an'  hewin'  up,  an'  took  a 
pleasure  in  it.  It  was  n't  jest  the  way 
of  developin'  the  moral  sentiments  in  a 
boy,  an'  I  did  n't  grow  kind  an'  lovin'. 
As  I  grew  older,  I  got  sorter  reckless. 
I  b'lieve,  when  the  fit  was  on  me,  I  would 
have  spoken  my  mind  to  him  if  I  had 
known   Monks  would  kill   me  the  next 


Doogans  Story.  1 2 1 

minute.  Once  his  wife  begged  me  to 
keep  my  tongue  quiet,  sayin'  she  was 
afraid  sometime  he  might  kill  me.  I 
never  have  forgotten  the  poor  little  thing, 
an'  I  never  wall,"  said  Doogan,  shaking 
his  head.  "  She  would  have  been  kind 
to  me  if  she  'd  dared.  If  ever  I  got  a 
chance  to  do  her  a  good  turn,  I  always 
meant  to  do  it.  Well,  at  last  the  chance 
come,  though  't  was  n't  anything  like 
w^iat   I  was  lookin'  fer. 

''  Yer  see,  she  'd  never  forgot  her  boy, 
though  she  did  n't  know  any  more  than 
I  did  what  had  become  of  him.  But 
one  day,  unbeknownst  to  Monks,  she  got 
a  letter  from  him,  an'  he  was  in  trouble, 
an'  wanted  money.  That 's  the  w^ay  it 
is  with  them  runaway  chaps;  they  are 
never  heard  from,  unless  they  're  wantin' 
money.  Poor  Mis'  Monks  had  n't  a 
cent,  an'  she  did  n't  dare  ask  Monks  fer 


122  Robins  Recruit, 

money.  Why,  I  've  seen  the  poor  thing 
tremble  when  she  heard  him  a-comin', 
an'  she  used  to  slap  the  dinner  on  the 
table,  an'  cut  for  the  barn,  while  he  eat 
it ;  so  ver  see  she  did  n't  confide  none 
of  her  troubles  to  him.  She  was  most 
frantic.  She  'd  walk  up  an'  down  the 
floor,  with  her  hands  to  her  head  an' 
her  eyes  rovin'  all  over  the  room,  as  if 
't  was  the  custom  in  that  house  to  have 
piles  o'  money  layin'  round  anywhere, 
convenient  fer  folks  that  wanted  it  to 
pick  up.     Well,  so  it  went  on. 

"  I  was  about  fifteen  year  old  by  that 
time,  an'  strong  as  a  young  lion. 

"At  last  Monks  lost  twenty-five  dol- 
lars, which  he  said  had  been  stolen  out 
of  his  trousers'  pocket.  He  insisted 
that  I  was  the  thief,  and  tried  all 
his  winnin'  ways  to  make  me  own 
that    I    had    taken    it,    and    give    him 


Doogans  Story.  123 

his  mone)/  again.     I  was  black  an'  blue 
with  his  compliments.     At  last  the  beast 
in  me  broke  loose,  an'  I  turned  on  him 
jest  as  I  'd  always  longed  to  do,  an'  paid 
back.     There  warn't  nothin'  mean  about 
me,  an'  after  I  'd  thrashed  him  fer  myself, 
I  laid  on  again  fer  poor  Mis'  Monks,  an' 
then  fer  the  boy  he  'd  driven  away  from 
her.      I  was  that  hot  't  was  a  mercy  I 
had  n't  killed  him,  but  a  man  passin'  by, 
hearin'  his  screams,  come  to  his  rescue. 
(It  was  one  of  those  men  that  had  eiven 
me  into  old  Monks'  hands  in  the  beein- 
ning.)     Together  they  managed   to  tie 
me  up,  an'  the   upshot   of    the   business 
was,   I  was  taken  to  the  reform  school. 
Captain   Robin,  /  knew    zuho  took    that 
mo7iey.     I  saw  her  do  it!' 

"  Oh,"  said  Robin,  swallowins^  his 
tears,  and  looking  up  brightly,  "  then 
they  let  you  off." 


124  Robins  Recruit. 

"  Well,"  said  Doogan,  "  't  was  this 
way.  Yer  never  see  sech  a  frightened, 
miser'ble-lookin'  human  critter  as  Mis' 
Monks  ever  since  the  old  man  first  found 
out  that  his  money  had  been  took.  She 
kept  a-follerin'  me  about  with  them  sick, 
scared  eyes  of  hers,  an'  I  remembered 
she  'd  'a'  been  kind  to  me  if  she  dared, 
an'  I  could  n't  go  back  on  her.  I  jest 
declared  to  everybody  that  I '  had  n't 
stole  the  money,  an'  that 's  all  I  would 
say.  But  folks  w^ould  n't  listen,  or  if 
they  did,  they  would  n't  believe  me. 
They  said  I  'd  always  been  a  bad  sort  of 
a  boy,  an'  my  pa  had  been  a  bad  man, 
an'  the  school  o'  reform  would  be  the 
safest  place  fer  me.  The  school  o' 
reform  !  "  repeated  Doogan,  bitterly.  "  A 
fine  way  to  reform  a  young  feller,  by 
sivin'  him  a  bad  name  that  '11  stick  all 
his    life,   an'    prevent    his    followin'  any 


Doogans  Story.  125 

respectable  livin'  in  the  place  where  he  's 
born,  an'  that  forces  him  to  live  a  wild 
life  in  wild  places.  Poor  Mis'  Monks, 
she  died  that  same  year,  an'  a  great 
streak  of  luck  fer  her.  As  fer  Jmn,  I 
don't  know  what  become  of  him,  but  I 
know  he  was  the  ruination  of  me.  When 
I  went  to  that  school  o'  reform,  I  turned 
my  back  on  any  chance  fer  a  good  sort 
of  a  life.  P'raps  I  would  n't  have  had 
one,  anyhow.  Folks  always  mistrust 
me.  '  He  s  got  a  bad  face.  I  must 
look  out  fer  him,' they 'd  say;  an'  that 
sort  of  a  manner  toward  a  man  don't 
sort  of  ^^g  him  on  to  doin'  his  best.  No, 
I  ain't  had  a  chance,  an'  there 's  only 
one  way  fer  me." 

Doogan  had  forgotten  Robin.  His 
eyes  were  looking  absently  into  the  dis- 
tance, where  the  sun,  like  a  crimson  disk, 
seemed    slipping   into    the    gray,  lonely 


126  Rod  ills  Recruit. 

chaparral.  His  face  grew  hard.  That 
spirit  of  unconquerable  loyalty  that  had 
shone  in  his  eyes,  as  he  spoke  of  the 
poor  woman  whom  he  would  not  betray, 
had  faded  into  fierce  gloom ;  and  his 
thouo:hts  were  of  a  future  even  darker, 
perhaps,  than  that  sad,  unfortunate  past 
over  which  Robin  was  silently  grieving. 
"  It 's  queer,"  he  went  on  presently, 
"how  'twas  on  my  birthday — I  was 
jest  fifteen  then  —  when  I  got  into  the 
reform  school,  an'  my  birthday  again 
when  I  o-ot  into  the  o-uard-house  down 
here.  But  'twas  the  fust  time  that  paved 
the  way  fer  the  other,  —  'twas  the  first 
time  that  paved  the  way  fer  all  the  badness 
that  followed ;  that,  an'  the  face  of  me 
that  folks  can't  bear,  an'  has  scared  away 
all  decent  company.  I  never  had  a 
friend  except  poor  Mis'  Monks  an'  — 
Why,  Captain  Robin,  little  chap,  don't 
yer  cry  so  !  " 


Doogans  Stojy.  127 

He  held  the  child  higher  in  his  arms, 
till  his  face  touched  his  own,  and  both 
were  wet  with    tears. 

"  Don't  cry  so,  dear  little  kid !  "  he 
begged.  "It  ain't  good  fer  yer;  'twill 
hurt  yer.  Plague  take  me  that  I  ever 
began  chinnin'  in  this  low-sperited  way ! 
Cheer  up,  Captain  Robin,  fer  we  're  all 
right  now,  here  on  this  purty-lookin' 
chaparral." 

He  was  frio^htened,  for  Robin  was 
crying  hysterically,  although  he  struggled 
to  control  himself. 

"  Who  'd  'a'  thouorht  he  'd  have  taken 
it  to  heart  so,  the  poor,  lovin'  little  chap  ! " 
he  said  to  himself.  Those  tears,  which, 
as  far  as  he  knew,  were  the  first  ever 
shed  for  him,  touched  him  deeply,  and 
with  gentle,  tender  ways  that  became  the 
great  fellow  well,  he  tried  to  dry  them. 

"  Doogan,"  said   Robin,  when  he  had 


128  Robins  Recruit. 

finally  mastered  himself,  "  I  'm  only  a 
boy  now ;  but  I  '11  be  a  man  by-and-by, 
and  I  '11  be  a  good  friend  to  you." 

"  An'  I  believe  yer,"  answered  Doogan. 
"  You  're  different  from  any  one  I  ever 
saw,  an'  I  believe  yer  will." 

"  And  you  must  stick  to  me,"  Robin 
went  on ;  "  you  have  promised  to." 

"I  won't  —  er — never  forgit  yer, 
certain,"  Doogan  answered,  lowering  his 
eyes,  however,  before  those  resting  uppn 
him  with  such  love  and  confidence. 

"  And  what  happened  to  you  after  you 
came  out  of  the  school  of  reform } " 
asked    Robin,    suddenly. 

"  Oh,  nothin'  in  particular,"  was  the 
cautious  reply.  "  I  guess  things  chirked 
up  some  after  that.  We  're  all  right, 
Captain  Robin,  —  you  an'  me,  —  ain't 
we }  An'  I  think  now  we  'd  better  be 
a-startin'  fer  home." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

EARLY    EXPERIENCES. 

npHE  thought  that  Doogan  spoke  no 
more  than  the  truth  when  he  said 
people  mistrusted  him  on  account  of 
his  "  bad  face"  troubled  Robin,  and 
more  than  ever  before  he  longed  for  him 
to  distinguish  himself  in  some  \y3.)\  and 
win  public  approval.  Doogan  was  brave, 
but  in  these  comparatively  peaceful  times 
there  was  small  chance  for  the  bravery 
that  would  lead  to  high  honors.  Doo- 
gan was  certain  that  he  could  neither 
write  a  poem,  compose  an  opera,  paint  a 
picture,  nor  do  any  of  those  things  that 
upon  earnest  inquiry  Robin  learned  were 
the  highways  to  fame;  and  he  was  forced 

9 


130  Robins  Recruit. 

to  fall  back  on  the  hope  that  at  least  he 
would  mend  all  his  bad  ways,  and  become 
an  exemplary  common-soldier.  It  would 
require  a  great  effort  to  do  this,  for  the 
poor  fellow's  will  was  weak,  so  that  he 
fell  easily  into  temptation. 

Never  had  Robin  spoken  to  him  of 
these  bad  habits  of  his;  but  there  was  no 
need  of  that,  for  Doogan  knew  well  what 
his  feeling  was,  and  that  the  boy  grieved 
whenever  he  himself  was  in  disgrace. 
Many  times,  when  thinking  of  this,  he 
had  resolved  to  combat  these  desires  that 
brought  him  so  low,  but  nevertheless  he 
had  always  yielded  weakly,  and  finally 
gave  up  in  despair.  Thinking  over  the 
sad  childhood  of  poor  Doogan,  Robin 
pitied  and  excused  his  friend's  faults, 
and  still  with  trustful  persistence  be- 
lieved  in  him. 

No  matter  how  earnestly  he  implored. 


Early  Experiences,  131 

he  could  never  induce  the  recruit  to  tell 
him  anything  more  of  his  early  history; 
but  in  return  for  his  former  confidence 
Robin  told  him  of  his  own  youthful 
adventures,  which,  considering  that  he 
had  not  as  yet  seen  many  birthdays,  were 
numerous  and  exciting- 

They  began  wnth  a  journey  over  the 
plains  in  his  first  year,  when  his  father 
had  been  ordered  from  one  post  to 
another,  forty  miles  distant,  in  the  north- 
western State  where  his  regiment  was 
then  stationed.  Lieutenant  Clancy  (as 
he  was  at  that  time)  had  but  a  small 
escort,  and  there  were  hostile  Indians 
about,  which  made  the  trip  dangerous. 
When  the  journey  was  nearly  made,  the 
little  party  was  attacked  by  Indians. 
Mrs.  Clancy  and  her  baby  son,  with 
Susannah,  were  travellinor  in  a  Q-overn- 
ment  ambulance ;  and  during  the  fight, 


132  Robins  RecriciL 

which  took  place  at  a  short  distance  from 
it,  they  were  left  with  the  driver.  By- 
and-by  some  Indians  came  up  to  the 
ambulance,  and  the  driver  fled,  leaving 
the  women  and  the  child  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  the  savages. 

"  Of  course,  you  know,  I  can't  remem- 
ber very  well  about  it,  for  I  was  just 
nothing  but  a  baby  then,"  said  Robin, 
having  arrived  at  this  point  in  the  story; 
"  but  I  've  heard  it  such  lots  of  times 
that  it  seems  as  if  I  really  could  remem- 
ber about  Susannah.  If  it  had  n't  been 
for  Susannah,  we  should  all  have  been 
killed." 

"  And  what  did  she  do  ? "  inquired 
Doo2:an. 

"  Well,  she  took  a  big  umbrella,  and 
going  to  the  back  of  the  ambulance,  began 
to  scream  and  jump,  and  to  open  and 
shut  the  umbrella  right  in  the  faces  of 


Early  Experiences,  133 

the  savages.  It  was  winter  and  very  cold, 
and  she  wore  a  great  red  cape  with  a 
hood  which  came  up  over  the  head  in  a 
peak.  The  soldiers  said  that  the  Indians 
thouQ-ht  she  was  the  Evil  One  himself. 
Anyway,  they  were  frightened,  and  ran 
off,  and  we  hurried  on  toward  Fort  Cas- 
per, which  we  soon  reached,  safe  and 
sound.  Father  calls  Susannah  an  old 
Indian  campaigner." 

Doogan  was  greatly  entertained  by  this 
story.  He  thought  it  a  joke  on  Susannah 
that  even  the  Red  Man  ran  from  her. 

"  Well,"  continued  Robin,  "  at  Fort 
Casper  there  were  lots  of  Indians  around 
the  garrison.  You  might  look  up  any 
time,  and  see  an  old  brave  with  his  nose 
flattened  against  the  window-pane.  They 
would  n't  dare  to  hurt  you,  with  the  sol- 
diers so  near,  but  mother  was  afraid  of 
them,  and  she  'd  scream  for  Susannah ; 


134  Robins  RecrttzL 

and  when  she  came,  the  Indians  would 
always  scoot.  Mrs.  Preston  used  to  want 
to  borrow  Susannah,  for  they  lived  in 
the  quarters  the  Indian  agent  had  before, 
and  the  Indians  used  to  stalk  into  her 
house  without  knocking,  and  squat  right 
down  by  the  fire.  They  never  did  in 
ours." 

"  Well,  I  should  n't  think  they  would, 
if  the  gentle  Susannah  was  a-standin' 
by  with  a  poker,  or  a  kittle  of  boilin' 
water  at  hand.  She  'd  as  soon  scald  a 
man  as  not,  —  the   lady  Susannah." 

"  Why,  she  would  n't  for  anything. 
You  don't  know  how  good  she  is ;  and 
Doogan,  dear  old  fellow,  you  must  not 
call  her  names." 

"  Me  }  May  the  breath  fail  me  first! 
Leastways,  for  any  but  pet  names." 

"  Well,  I  think  those  are  the  kind 
she  'd  hate  worst ;  but  you  don't  know 


Early  Experiejtces,  135 

how  good  she  is,"  Robin  repeated,  "  and 
then,  Doogan,  she  's  brave." 

"  Brave !  "  laughed  Doogan.  "  What 's 
the  good  o'  that  fer  a  woman  ?  One  of 
them  Httle  purty  squeaUn'  things  is  worth 
twenty  of  her." 

"  If  she  had  been  one  of  those  little 
pretty  squealing  things,  the  Indians 
would  have  had  our  scalps.  I  'd  rather 
have  Susannah  as  she  is,"  said  Robin, 
stoutly.  "Let's  drop  the  subject,  Doo- 
gan, because  we  '11  never  agree.  Now 
you  go  on  with  yoicr  story.  What  hap- 
pened after  they  put  you  in  the  reform 
school  .^  " 

"  Suppose  we  drop  subjict  number 
two,"  Doogan  suggested  dryly.  "  Let 's 
go  back  to  the  Injuns." 

"  Well,  the  Indians  make  a  pretty  good 
subject,"  Robin  assented.  "  I  know  they 
made  thino;s  livelv  for  us,  when  we  were 


136  Robins  Recruit. 

out  there  on  the  plauis,  and  gave  plenty 
of  other  people  beside  Susannah  a  chance 
to  show  their  courage." 

"  Susannah  again.  Lord  !  she  is 
always  the  leadin'  lady  in  the  play," 
murmured    Doogan. 

"  There  was  poor  Barker,  for  instance," 
Robin  went  on,  unmindful  of  this  jest. 
"  Did  you  ever  hear  about  him  ? " 

"  Well,  no,  I  can't  say  I  have.  He 
were  another  brave  one,  I  reckon." 

"He  was  a  bugler  boy  of  B  Company. 
He  was  a  young  fellow,  and  very  thin 
and  small.  The  men  used  always  to  call 
him  'sonny,'  and  they  all  laughed  and 
made  fun  of  him;  and  they  said  that  in 
a  fio'ht  with  the  Indians  he  would  stand 
behind  his  rifie  and  hide  himself.  There 
was  one  man  —  his  name  was  Hoswell 
—  that  said  the  hardest  things  of  all. 
Barker    used    to    flush    all    up,    but   he 


Early  Experiences.  137 

would  never  answer.  Hoswell  said  he 
did  n't  dare  to,  and  he  had   better  not. 

''  Well  at  last  one  day  some  men  went 
out  after  Indians,  and  Hoswell  and 
poor  Barker  were  with  them.  They 
got  into  a  whole  nest  of  redskins,  and 
there  was  a  fio-ht.  There  were  more 
Indians  than  soldiers,  and  it  was  hot 
work;  but  after  awhile  our  men  beat  the 
Indians.  They  captured  some,  and  the 
rest  got  away.  We  lost  two  men,  — poor 
Sampson,  who  was  found  all  riddled 
throuo'h  with  arrows,  and  another  man 
who  had  been  picked  off  before  the  reg- 
ular fiorht  beofan.  Then  there  were  two 
men  missing,  Hoswell  and   Barker. 

"  The  men  remembered  seeing  Hoswell 
fio-htino^  like  mad,  off  bv  the  river;  but 
no  one  had  noticed  Barker,  and  they 
said  he  had  been  hiding  somewhere,  and 
would  fall  in  after  a  while,  with  a  whole 
skin. 


138  Robins  Recruit. 

"  So,  after  looking  a  long  while  for 
Hoswell,  they  started  for  the  garrison. 
After  a  week  or  so  passed,  and  nothing 
was  heard  of  either  of  them,  everybody 
supposed  that  Hoswell  had  been  killed, 
and  Barker  had  deserted. 

"  But  one  day  some  ranchmen  brought 
in  two  men  that  they  had  found  almost 
frozen  near  their  ranch,  which  was  ten 
miles  from  the  post.  One  of  them,  they 
said,  had  been  wounded  in  an  engage- 
ment with  the  Indians,  who  had  tied  him 
on  a  pony,  and  were  carrying  him  off, 
when  he  was  rescued,  at  the  peril  of  his 
life,  by  the  other  man,  who,  finding  that 
he  was  n't  able  to  walk,  had  carried  or 
dragged  him  along,  over  the  snow  and 
the  ice,  for  nearly  ten  miles,  and  had  then 
given  up  from  exhaustion,  not  knowing 
there  was  a  ranch  so  near. 

"  The  man  who  had  been  wounded  was 


Early  Experiences.  139 

Hoswell,  and  the  man  who  had  rescued 
him,  and  carried  him  all  that  long  way 
in  the  terrible  cold,  was  the  little  bugler 
boy  that  he  had  mocked  at." 

"  They  ain't  either  of  em  here  now," 
said  Doogan  ;  "  what  become  of  'em  ? " 

"  They  were  taken  to  the  hospital,  and 
everything  was  done  for  them.  After 
a  while,  Hoswell  was  out,  as  well  as  ever 
ao^ain.  He  o'ot  his  dischargee  before  we 
came  to  Texas,  and  I  heard  that  he  has 
settled  down  now  in  Helena.  But  Barker, 
you  see,  he  was  n't  so  strong,  and  he  — 
well,  he  died,"  said  Robin,  winking  hard 
to  keep  the  tears  back. 

He  looked  rather  sober  for  a  moment, 
but  presently  cheered  up,  and  said 
pluckily,  — 

"  Anyhow,  I  would  rather  have  been 
Barker  than  Hoswell.  Would  n't  it  be 
fine,   Dooo^an,  if  sometime,  after  I  'm  a 


140    ^  Robins  Recruit, 

man,  we  should  be  together  in  a  fight, 
and  have  a  chance  for  some  brave  action 
that  would  make  our  names  always 
remembered  together?  I  should  like 
that,  would  n't   you  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  never  saw  a  little  chap  so 
bloodthirsty  as  you  are,  Captain  Robin  ; 
an'  sech  a  soft-speakin',  mild  little  feller 
too,"  said  Doogan,  laughing.  "  I  ain't 
hankerin'  so  to  be  riddled  through  with 
arrers  as  you  are;  an'  I  can  tell  yer  them 
stirrin'  deeds  yer  think  so  much  of  are 
a  heap  more  comfortable  to  hear  about 
than  to  go  through  wdth.  Still,  if  you  're 
bound  fer  glory,  I  'm  with  yer." 

"  Oh,  you  would  n't  flinch,  I  know," 
said  Robin,  in  a  tone  of  conviction.  "  If 
you  only  had  a  chance,  3^ou  'd  show  'em. 
If  you  only  had  a  chance,  you  'd  cover 
yourself  with  glory." 

"  I  dun  no.     I  've  a  notion  that  glory 


Early  Experiences.  141 

is  dreadful  unsatisfactory  business  to  go 
in  fer.  That  poor  Barker  a-moulderin' 
in  his  grave  ain't  gettin'  much  satisfac- 
tion out  of  it,  I  reckon.  I  suspect  by 
this  time  folks  have  forgotten  what  he 
did,  even  to  the  other  feller,  —  Hoswell. 
An'  then  half  the  time  these  chaps  throw 
away  their  lives  jest  fer  nothin'." 

"  That  makes  no  difference,"  said 
Robin,  grandly.  "  Did  you  ever  hear 
that  piece  called  '  The  Charge  of  the 
Light  Brigade  '  ?  I  learned  it  once,  but 
I  get  so  excited  I  can't  repeat  it  very 
well.  I  just  see  those  fellows  dashing 
along  to  their  death,  '  Cannon  to  right 
of  them,  cannon  to  left  of  them,'  and  my 
throat  shuts  up,  and  I  can't  go  on. 

"  '  Charge  ! '  was  the  Captain's  cry ; 

Theirs  not  to  reason  why, 
Theirs  not  to  make  reply, 

Theirs  but  to  do,  and  die. 
Into  the  Valley  of  Death 

Rode  the  six  hundred. 


142  Rodiiis  Recruit, 

"  That 's  the  way  it  goes,  Doogan.  And 
then  to  think  that  after  all  it  was  n't  any 
use.  They  knew  'some  one  had  blun- 
dered,' but  they  were  soldiers,  and  they 
meant  to  obey  orders,  whatever  should 
happen." 

"  Well,  now,  that  's  just  the  sort  of  a 
shoe-string  that  won't  fit  7ny  shoes,"  said 
Doogan,  flippantly. 

All  through  the  morning's  talk,  light 
and  shade  had  chased  each  other  over 
Doooan's  face.  The  shadow  was  now 
coming.     He  went  on,  frowning  darkly  : 

"  If  a  feller  has  a  mind  to  throw  his 
life  away,  that  's  his  look-out,  an'  I 
have  n't  any  objections,  —  like  that 
'  Barker  '  you  was  tellin'  of,  —  though  I 
may  have  my  own  opinion  of  the  sense  of 
him  ;  but  when  he  throws  it  away  cos  he  's 
ordered  to  do  it,  that  riles  me  all  up.  I 
reckon   I  was  n't  planned  out  fer  a  sol- 


Early  Experie7ices.  143 

dier,  fer  I  ain't  hankerin'  to  do  any  of 
them  fine  deeds.  I  ain't  a  bit  o'  putty 
that  can  be  squeezed  into  any  shaped 
crack  or  a  hole,  jest  to  fill  up.  I  've  got 
to  live  my  own  way,  an'  that  way  ain't 
an  enlisted  man's  way.  There  ain't  no 
use  o'  pertending  to  be  different  from 
what  I  am,  though  with  them  mournful, 
beseechin'  eyes  o'  yours  a-jabbin'  inter 
me  that  way,  Captain  Robin,  I  'd  say 
purty  much  what  yer  want." 

With  Doogan's  words  a  terrible  fear 
shot  into  Robin's  heart, — the  fear  that 
Doogan  meant   to   desert. 

"  Then  say  you  are  joking,"  he   cried, 
catching    at    Doogan's    sleeve.       '*  You 
must   be    joking.      You    have   promised 
always    to    stick   to   me,  and — Dooo-an 
say  that  you  dojit  mean   to   desert." 

"Lord!  no,  little  kid.  I  was  jest  a- 
jokin',"    Doogan     answered     soothingly. 


144  Robins  Recruit. 

but  his  eyes  fell  before  the  boy's  earnest 
glance.  "  Of  course  I  was  a-jokin'.  Yer 
must  n't  worry  about  that,  fer  if  there  's 
any  feller  deserts  this  post,  't  won't  be 
me. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A    DESERTING    SOLDIER. 

TT  was  moonlight,  —  the  bright  moon- 
light of  Texas.  It  had  been  a  gay 
eveninor  at  Fort  Carev,  beofinninor  with  a 
band  concert.  Later,  there  was  sinGfing^ 
and  laughter  on  the  porches  of  the  offi- 
cers' quarters,  and  now  and  then  one 
caught  the  glitter  of  an  officer's  accoutre- 
ments, and  the  flash  of  a  white  dress,  as 
a  promenading  couple  passed  under  one 
of  the  lamps  that  outlined  the  parade- 
ground.  There  was  merry-making 
enough,  too,  at  the  barracks,  but  through 
it  all  John  Doogan  sat  moodily  by  him- 
self on  the  barrack  porch,  smoking  his 
pipe,  and  thinking  of  the  events  of  the 


lO 


146 


Robin  s  Recruit. 


da}^  which  of  a  certainty  were  anything 
but  pleasant  to  remember. 


"  Doogan  sat  moodily  by  himself  on  the  barrack  porch." 

That  morning  there  had  been  a  bat- 
talion inspection.  At  the  call  for  as- 
sembly, different  companies  had  formed. 


A  Deserting  Soldier.  147 

At  the  word  of  command,  they  opened 
ranks ;  and  the  inspector,  with  major, 
captain,  and  other  officers  who  them- 
selves had  previously  been  inspected, 
passed  between  the  lines,  inspecting  the 
arms,  accoutrements,  dress,  and  ammuni- 
tion of  each  soldier.  Poor  Dooo^an  had 
been  reprimanded  for  carelessness  ;  and 
that  had  been  the  bes^inninof  of  a  series 
of  disagreeable  experiences,  the  last  of 
which  promised  serious  trouble  for  him. 
Captain  Clancy,  having  made  up  his 
company's  account,  had  ordered  him  to 
pay  his  canteen  bill.  This  was  for  such 
articles  as  he  had  bous^ht  at  the  canteen 
building,  a  sort  of  shop  for  the  soldiers' 
convenience.  Doogan  was  ready  and 
willing  to  pay  the  bill ;  but  the  tone  of 
authority  in  which  the  order  was  given 
struck  unpleasantly  on  his  sore  and  defi- 
ant mood,  and  angered  him.     He  gave 


148  Robins  Recruit. 

the  captain  an  ugly  look,  and  answered 
recklessly,  — 

"  I  '11  pay  it  when  I  'm  ready." 

There  was  no  doubt  the  captain  would 
prefer  charges  against  him  for  disrespect 
to  an  officer,  and  he  would  be  tried  by 
court-martial.  One  of  the  old  soldiers, 
in  a  tone  more  expressive  of  satisfaction 
than  sympathy,  had  informed  him  what 
his  punishment  was  likely  to  be,  —  a 
month's  imprisonment  and  the  loss  of  a 
month's  pay. 

"  A  month's  imprisonment !  Poof ! 
Did  they  take  him  for  a  fool,  then  ? " 

Doogan  got  up,  and  stepping  inside 
the  barrack  room,  glanced  at  the  clock, 
and  then  passed  out  again  into  the  moon- 
light, sauntering  along  carelessly.  Below 
the  garrison  ran  the  creek,  outlined  by 
the  shadowy  verdure  along  its  banks, 
and    winding    through    the     chaparral, 


A  Deserting  Soldier,  149 

which,  so  monotonous  by  daylight,  was 
now  soft  and  beautiful,  —  an  endless 
realm  of  mystery.  Mystery  of  all  things 
was  what  Doogan  coveted  that  night. 
He  loved  the  shadows,  for  his  purpose 
was  to  hide  and  fly. 

Having  passed  outside  the  garrison,  he 
walked  cautiously  on  the  edge  of  the 
road  toward  the  little  town.  The  air 
was  clear,  and  he  distinctly  heard  the 
call  for  taps. 

''TAPS,"    OR,    EXTINGUISH    LIGHTS. 

Slow 


^dj^^^EgE^gg 


Put  out  your  lights,    Put  out  your  lights,    Put 


.  .  .     out  .  .  .         your  ....  lights, 

_<2 ,  ^ 


^m^sai^ 


Put      out  your  lights,       Put     out   your  lights. 


150  Robins  Recruit. 

He  repeated  it  under  his  breath,  with 
a  feeling:  of  scorn  for  "  those  fools  that 
stayed  there  to  be  driven  like  sheep  into 
a  shed,  in  a  night  like  this." 

He  hid  among  some  bushes  down  on 
the  edge  of  the  town,  and  waited,  listen- 
ing intently  for  the  sound  of  wheels. 

Just  about  this  time  the  wagon  of  a 
certain  man  he  knew  was  due  at  this 
point,  on  its  course  toward  his  ranch,  six 
miles  distant.  He  was  a  simple  fellow, 
who,  Doogan  was  sure,  for  a  little  money 
would  hide  him  until  it  would  be  safer  for 
him  to  be  abroad,  when  he  meant  to  walk 
to  the  station  below  Plunkett,  and  take 
the  train  there.  So  he  crouched  low  in 
the  bushes,  and  waited. 

Instead  of  the  creak  of  the  ranchman's 
wagon,  he  heard  the  delicious  notes  of  a 
nightingale.  There  are  those  who  can 
listen  unmoved  to  this  sweetest  of  music, 


A  Deserting  Soldier.  151 

while  in  others  it  stirs  tender  and  gentle 
thoughts.  Doogan  thought  of  Robin, 
and  instinctively  he  put  his  hand  over 
the  pocket  where  he  had  tucked  a  photo- 
graph of  the  little  fellow  that  he  had 
once  given  him. 

"  There  't  is,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I 
would  n't  want  to  lose  the  picter  of  the 
only  friend  I  ever  had.  Queer  little  kid 
he  is,  anyhow.  He  took  a  likin'  to  me 
right  at  the  start,  an'  queer  enough  it 
was,  but  he  ain't  got  an  eddicated  taste, 
—  that 's  it.  His  recruit  I  was.  Poor 
little  chap,  he  won't  have  any  recruit 
ter-morrer,  or  my  name  ain't  John  Doo- 
gan, alias  —  well,  no  matter  'bout  that. 
I  'spect  likely  he  's  goin'  to  miss  me  some. 
Sho !  why  don't  that  bird  shut  up  with 
his  tooral-looralin' }  " 

He  ^  crept  along   impatiently,  but   he 
could  still   hear   the  pure  notes   of   the 


152  Robins  Recruit. 

nightingale,  and  his  thoughts,  too,  kept 
pace  with  him. 

"  Yes ;  the  little  chap  took  a  likin'  to 
me,  an'  I  took  a  likin'  to  him,  as  anybody 
would.  I  would  have  been  glad  to  know 
before  I  come  away  that  he  was  a-gettin' 
well.  He  's  in  a  bad  way,  an'  the  little 
face  of  him  seems  to  me  to  be  o^rowin' 
peakeder  all  the  time.  That 's  the  way 
it  is :  a  little  feller  like  him  that's  good 
clear  dow^n  to  the  ground,  an'  is  bound 
to  grow  up  to  be  of  use  in  the  world,  is 
hauled  right  up  out  of  it,  an'  a  feller  like 
me  is  left  with  the  strength  of  a  beast  to 
go  as  fast  as  he  can  to  the  bad.  Shoo, 
shoo,  you  fool  bird,  why  dont  you  shut 
up  ?  " 

Sounds  of  footsteps  and  voices 
approaching  along  the  road  from  the 
town  now  gave  his  thoughts  a  new 
direction. 


A   Deserting  Soldier.  153 

"  Old  Corrigan  an'  Corporal  Smith," 
he  murmured,  as,  cautiously  peeping  out, 
he  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  two  hurrying 
figures.  "  What  are  they  down  here  fer  ? 
'T  would  be  jest  my  luck  to  have  that 
pesky  wagon  come  along  now,  when  I 
can't  skip  out  an'  show   myself." 

He  waited  breathless,  while  the   two 
men  passed  him. 

"  I  knew  he  was  a  bad  lot,  the  first 
time  I  ever  set  my  eves  on  that  scowlino- 
red  phiz  he  's  got.  You  never  see  a 
man  with  those  bold,  ugly  eyes  that  has 
any  good  in  him,  and  there  is  n't  any 
good  in  Doogan.  I  tell  you  I  keep  a 
stiddy  eye  on  him,  for  he  's  bound  to 
desert  sometime." 

The  sergeant's  sharp  voice  fell  dis- 
tinctly on  the  clear  air,  and  the  deserting 
soldier  smiled  grimly. 

"  Talk  's  cheap,  old  Braggadocio,"  he 


154  Robms  Recruit, 

muttered,  "  an'  that  stiddy  eye  o'  yours 
is  off  dooty  jest  at  the  wrong  time, 
Good-by,  Corrigan,  old  boy.  May  yer 
success  be  greater  next  time  !  " 

The  men  had  passed,  and  were  at  the 
top  of  the  hill  before  Doogan  allowed 
himself  to  stir.  Then  he  got  up  slowly, 
and  took  a  look  at  the  old  fort,  outlined 
clearly  against  the  soft  moonlit  sky. 

Of  all  that  garrison  there  was  but  one 
who  would  ever  in  the  future  give  him  a 
kind  thought.  All  save  one  would  agree 
with  Corrigan  that  there  was  no  good  in 
him,  but  he  knew  that  one,  with  un- 
shaken fidelity,  would  still  believe  he 
was  not  altogether  bad. 

Doogan  counted  the  houses  along  the 
line,  until  he  came  to  Captain  Clancy's. 
The  windows  were  all  dark  except  those 
of  the  room  where  Robin  lay. 

"  Mebbe  he  's  havin'  one  of  them  sick 


A  Deserting  Soldier.  155 

spells  o'  his,"  he  said  to  himself  uneasily, 
for  he  remembered  how  the  fever  and 
pain  exhausted  him,  and  that  after  such 
a  night  he  liked  to  be  carried  out  into 
the  fresh  air,  and  that  his  first  call  would 
be  for  Dooo^an. 

There  was  something  in  Doogan's 
nature,  hardened  though  it  was,  that 
made  it  difificult  for  him  to  desert  a  friend 
in  distress.  Yet  he  asked  himself  impa- 
tiendy  how  he  could  be  certain  that 
Robin  was  not  sleeping  peacefully,  not- 
withstanding that  light  shining  from  the 
windows  of  his  room. 

"  Ten  to  one,  't  is  the  taper  of  my 
beauteous  Susannah  a-passin'  through 
his  room  to  her  own  lily  couch.  'T  is 
the  transit  o'  Wenus  the  chaplain  was 
a-talkin'  of  th'  other  night,  when  him 
an'  some  o'  the  men  was  a-lookin'  at  the 
stars." 


156  Robins   Recruit. 

But  this  little  pleasantry  did  not  quiet 
Doogan's  misgivings.  That  light  in  the 
window  w^as  like  a  soft  voice,  —  a  little, 
kind  voice,  —  that  called  to  him  across 
the  night,  and  pleaded  with  him  to  stay. 
The  clinging  loyalty  of  little  Robin 
seemed  to  hold  him  as  with  cords. 

Even  the  noise  of  the  ranchman's 
heavy  wagon,  as  it  finally  came  rumbling 
alono:  the  road,  could  not  drown  this  soft 
voice,  as  Doogan  stumbled  out  of  the 
bushes,  and  stood  looking  sharply  at  the 
vehicle  to  verify  it  as  that  of  his  friend. 

"  Lord!  I  've  a  mind  to  wait  an'  trot 
him  out  once  more,"  he  said  to  himself 
as  he  stood  there.  "  Ter-morrer  night 
will  do  as  well  fer  me  as  ter-night,  fer  all 
I  know.  Anyhow,  I  '11  risk  it  fer  the 
little  kid.  An'  ter-morrer  night  I  '11  not  be 
lookin'  back  at  the  old  hole,  an'  havin' 
any  more  o'  this  foolishness." 


A  Deserting  Soldier.  157 

So  the  wagon  passed  on, —  the  man 
inside,  half  asleep,  not  recognizing  Doo- 
gan,  who  now  walked  back  again  to  the 
garrison. 

At  this  hour  the  sentry  was  posted  by 
the  gate,  and  he  would  be  caught  out  of 
quarters  after  taps ;  but  he  walked  on 
resolutely,  thinking  alternately  of  Robin 
and  of  what  he  called  his  own  milk-and- 
water  foolishness. 

Drawn  by  the  light  shining  from  the 
window,  he  hurried  on,  little  guessing  to 
what  fate  love  was  leading  him. 

''  Ter-morrer  night,"  he  kept  saying  to 
himself, —  "  ter-morrer  night 's  the  time, 
or  I  '11  deserve  the  luck  of  a  noodle  that 
hangs  round  to  be  locked  up  for  a  month 
in  that  old  guard-house." 


CHAPTER  X. 

DANGER. 


Fire !       fire ! 


fire !       fire ! 


fire! 


-P- 


fire!    fire!    fire!      fire! 


Go,    get    your   buckets, 


'--^-- 


mm 


get     your  buck-ets,      get   your   buck-ets,  soldiers! 


Get  your  buckets, get  your  buckets, get  your  buckets, all 


Danger.  159 

It  was  hot,  terribly  hot.  on  the  day 
that  would  be  Doogan's  last  at  Fort 
Carey.  Summer  heat  had  all  at  once 
burst  like  a  bomb  over  the  land,  which 
seemed  to  shrivel  and  scorch  under  it. 
One  of  the  men  was  sunstruck  at  inspec- 
tion, dropping  down  from  the  ranks  as  if 
hit  by  a  bullet. 

The  heat  was  too  great  for  Robin  to 
go  out  until  after  the  sun  should  go 
down,  at  which  time  he  sent  word  to 
Dooean  he  would  be  2:lad  if  he  would 
come  for  him.  At  noon,  however,  a 
playful  little  breeze  sprang  up,  which  at 
the  time  every  one  welcomed  gratefully, 
little  thinkino'  of  the  mischief  it  would 
do  later. 

After  luncheon  Robin  lay  down  on 
the  parlor  lounge,  while  his  mother  sat  by 
his  side  and  fanned  him,  hoping  he  would 
fall  asleep  and  get  the  rest   he  so  much 


i6o  Robins  Recruit. 

needed  after  his  night  of  wakefulness  and 
pain.  It  made  her  heart  ache  to  look  at 
this  little,  quiet  shadow  of  her  once  active, 
rugged  boy,  with  his  noisy  boy  ways,  his 
disregard  of  danger,  and  his  cheerful 
talk.  With  soft  mother-touch  she 
smoothed  back  from  his  forehead  the 
still  brio'ht  chestnut  curls,  which,  as 
some  one  had  said,  was  all  of  Robin 
Clancy  that  seemed  left  as  it  used  to  be. 

Dr.  Bemis  was  impatient  to  have  him 
taken  away  from  Texas  ;  and  urged  by 
the  sudden  heat,  she  had  decided  to  start 
at  once,  without  waiting  for  the  captain, 
who,  if  he  got  his  leave,  would  follow 
them. 

Robin's  heavy  eyes  had  closed,  and  he 
lay  quite  still,  breathing  gently,  so  that 
his  mother  nodded  brightly  to  Susannah, 
who,  good  soul,  had  crept  into  the  room 
in  her  stocking  feet,  to  see  if  Robin  were 


Danger. 


i6i 


1^ 


•'  It  made  her  heart  ache  to  look  at  this  little,  quiet  shadow 
of  her  once  active,  rugged  boy." 


II 


1 62  Robins  Recruit, 

sleeping,  and  to  persuade  Mrs.  Clancy 
to  go  and  lie  down. 

It  was  then  about  three  o'  clock ;  and 
every  one,  unless  compelled  to  be  at  work, 
sought  the  cool  and  quiet  of  shaded 
rooms,  and  the  forgetfulness  of  sleep. 
But  suddenly  a  bugle-call  stirred  the 
drowsy  garrison  into  wakefulness. 

It  was  the  call  for  fire. 

Ladies  and  children  came  tumbling 
out  of  their  quarters,  and  hastened  away 
to  the  farther  end  of  the  garrison  below 
the  old  parade-ground.  There  was  a 
continual  tramp  of  hurrying  feet  "and  the 
sound  of  excited  voices.  Robin  woke  up 
with  a  start,  crying,  — 

"What  is  it,  mother?  What  has 
happened }  " 

Susannah,  having  run  out  to  see 
where  the  fire  was,  came  in  just  in  time 
to  answer  the  questiouo 


Danger.  163 

"  It 's  a  terrible  fire  broke  out  in  the 
quartermaster's  building.  There  's  no 
good  frowning  at  me  so,  ^liss  Maggy ; 
we  can't  keep  it  from  Robin,  anyhow,  an' 
he  ain't  so  silly  as  to  fret,  when  he  knows 
we  're  all  safe  and  sound." 

Two  of  the  ladies  now  rushed  in  to 
see  if  Mrs.  Clancy  would  go  with  them 
to  look  at  the  fire. 

"  Let  me  go  too,  mother;  I  mtist  go," 
cried  Robin  ;  but  his  mother  distressfully 
shook  her  head,  saying  it  would  be  better 
for  him  to  stay  quietly  where  he  was. 

The  poor  boy,  so  long  foremost  in 
every  adventure,  flung  himself  back  with 
a  sob  on  the  sofa.  He  was  trembling 
with  excitement,  and  it  did  not  seem 
possible  to  submit  to  any  such  sentence. 

Fortunately,  Susannah  came  to  the 
rescue  in  a  way  she  had,  often  swooping 
suddenly  down  upon  him  into  his  valley 


164  Robms  Recruit. 

of  humiliation,  and  bearing  him  aloft  to 
a  pinnacle  of  triumph. 

"  There  's  no  use,  Miss  Maggy,  taking 
up  with  the  notion  that  he  's  going  to 
stay  here  and  finish  out  his  nap  just 
'cause  he  's  told  to.  He  can't.  There  's 
no  more  nap  for  any  one  at  Fort  Carey 
till  that  fire  's  out.  He  '11  fret  himself 
into  a  fever  in  here.  I  know  I  should. 
Now  you  run  along  with  Mrs.  Preston 
and  Mrs.  Grey,  and  I  '11  take  care  of 
Robin." 

She  ended  with  a  glance  at  those 
ladies  which  seemed  to  say,  — 

"  You  just  look  after  this  child,  and 
I  '11   look  after  the  other  one." 

Mrs.  Clancy,  perceiving  the  wisdom 
of  Susannah's  words,  picked  up  a  fan 
and  a  parasol,  and  hurried  away  with 
her   friends. 

"  Now,  boy,  we  '11    fix   ourselves    and 


Danger.  165 

see  what's  going  on,"  said  Susannah; 
"  but  we  're  going  to  take  it  cool  and 
easy,  as  if  we  had  some  sense  in  our 
noddles,  ain't  we  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so,"  answered  Robin,  who 
was  throbbing  with  impatience. 

He  watched  Susannah  while  she 
wheeled  out  his  chair  and  secured  to  it 
a  big  umbrella  as  a  protection  from  the 
vivid  afternoon  sun.  There  was  even  a 
pillow  for  his  head,  which  he  would  have 
ungratefully  pitched  out,  had  he  not 
been  sure  that  he  would  be  cbliored  to 
wait  till  she  had  brushed  every  speck  of 
dust  from  it  and  rearranged  it  for  him. 

As  Susannah  and  Robin  passed  along, 
they  could  see  the  smoke  rising  from 
what  they  supposed  to  be  the  quarter- 
master's building,  where  they  had  been 
told  the  fire  was,  and  which  with  various 
other  buildino^s  was  hidden  from  them 


1 66  Robins  Recruit, 

by  a  dip  in  the  ground.  Having  passed 
around  this  slight  hill,  what  a  terrible 
sight  presented  itself !  Not  only  the 
quartermaster's  building,  but  the  bake- 
shop,  saw-mill,  and  an  old  sutler's 
building  were  swept  over  by  flames 
fanned  by  that  apparently  innocent 
breeze   that  was  now  blowing  briskly. 

The  offlcers  and  men  were  trying  to 
save  what  they  could  from  the  quarter- 
masters building,  which,  beside  the 
government  stores,  contained  papers  of 
value. 

"  Who  cares  for  those  things  ?  "  cried 
poor  little  Mrs.  Daly,  who  with  a  group 
of  other  ladies  stood  watching  the  scene. 
"  Why  will  they  risk  their  lives  in  that 
dreadful  building  .^^  Oh,  Mrs.  Clancy, 
my  husband  is  in  that  quartermaster's 
building  now  !  " 

"  So    is    Captain    Clancy,"    answered 


Danger.  167 

Robin's  mother,  who  had  not  been  the 
wife  of  a  soldier  for  twelve  years  without 
having  learned  to  control  her  fears  in 
the  presence  of  danger.  "  I  think  they 
won't  be  foolhardy,  and  you  know  it's 
their  duty  to  make  every  effort  to  save 
governm.ent  property." 

"  There 's  my  father,"  said  Robin, 
speaking  for  the  first  time  since  he  had 
faced  that  awful  spectacle.  "  Where  is 
Doogan  ? " 

"  Doogan  ?  Well,  I  declare  !  "  ejacu- 
lated Susannah;  "dead  drunk,  probably, 
down  at  the  Merry  Mule." 

"  Oh,  no,  he  is  not,"  said  Mrs.  Clancy ; 
"  he  is  here,  working  like  a  tiger.  He 
is  over  there  on  the  roof  of  the  old  sut- 
ler's store.  They  seem  very  anxious  to 
beat  the  fire  back  and  save  it.  See ! 
they  are  pouring  w-ater  on  the  roof. 
The  heat  up  there  must  be  dreadful. " 


1 68  Robins  Recruit. 

The  sutler's  store,  like  nearly  all  the 
other  buildings  at  Fort  Carey,  was  of 
stone,  but  the  roof  was  shingled.  On 
the  extreme  edge  of  the  ridgepole  sat 
Doogan  pouring  pailfuls  of  water  that 
were  handed  up  to  him  from  below  over 
the  roof.  Every  third  pailful  he  poured 
over  his  own  head,  to  enable  himself  to 
bear  the  fierce  heat  from  the  burning 
quartermaster's  building,  which  was 
within  a  few  feet  of  the  sutler's  store. 

Mrs.  Clancy  walked  away  a  few  steps 
with  the  major's  wife,  who  had  beckoned 
to  her. 

'^  I  've    found    out    why    they    are    so 

anxious  to  save  that  building,"  she  said ; 

"  but    I   could  n't    tell    you  before  Mrs. 

Daly,  who  is  frightened  enough  as  it  is. 

It  seems  the  powder  was  put  in   there 

while  the  arsenal  is  being  repaired." 
"  Why    don't   they  take  the   powder 

out?"  asked  Mrs.  Clancy. 


Danger.  169 

*'  Because  they  have  n't  the  key.  The 
ordnance  sergeant  has  it,  and  he  is  not 
to  be  found.     Drunk,  I  suppose." 

"  Then  why  don't  they  break  down 
the   door.?^" 

"  They  tried  to  do  that,  but  it  's  made 
very  strong,  with  iron  clamps,  and  they 
didn't  find  it  easy.  See!  they  are 
going  to  try  again  now.  At  first  it  was 
forgotten  that  the  powder  was  in  there. 
The  fire  started  in  the  saw-mill,  and  no 
one  thought  it  would  extend  so  far.  Then 
when  the  danger  was  appreciated,  a  good 
deal  of  time  was  lost  looking  for  the 
ordnance  sergeant.  How  hot  it  must  be 
where  that  man  is  !  It 's  Robin's  recruit, 
is  n't  it,  —  Doogan  }  He  fights  like  a 
hero,  but  he  can't  stand  it  much  longer. 
If  the  powder  is  not  taken  out  soon,  the 
flames  will  reach  it." 

The  two  women,  realizing  what  this 


I/O 


Robin  s  Recruit, 


meant,  —  the  destruction  of  the  garrison, 
—  looked  anxiously  at  each  other.  Mrs. 
Clancy's  pretty  color  died  out,  and  the 
major's  wife  trembled.  But  they  had 
both  braved  many  dangers,  and  they  did 
not  lose  courage  now.  They  joined  the 
group  from  which  they  had  just  sepa- 
rated, but  their  eyes  were  turned  away 
from  the  quartermaster's  building  and 
toward  the  roof  of  the  sutler's  store, 
where,  enveloped  in  smoke,  Doogan  was 
still  fighting  the  fire. 

By  this  time  the  heat  facing  those 
furious  flames  was  almost  intolerable. 
Through  all  the  soot  and  the  grime  on 
the  man's  face  one  might  see  the  scorched 
look  of  the  skin.  His  eyes  (they  might 
have  guessed  that)  were  almost  sight- 
less. Once  he  came  down  the  ladder, 
and  another  tried  to  take  his  place,  but 
soon  came  tumbling  down,  vowing  no 


Danger,  171 

man  could  bear  such  heat,  and  in  a 
moment  Doogan  was  up  on  the  roof 
again. 

"  He  is  a  brave  fellow,"  people  said,  as 
they  watched  him  with  wonder. 

But  as  for  Robin,  he  only  felt  that  his 
friend  was  in  danger.  In  his  weak  little 
treble  he  screamed  for  Doogan  to  come 
down,  but  in  the  furious  pell-mell  of  that 
wild  scene  no  one  heard  or  noticed 
him. 

The  soldiers  had  now  succeeded  in 
breaking  down  the  door  of  the  sutler  s 
store,  and  were  removing  the  powder, 
but  Doogan's  great  strength  was  ex- 
hausted. Twice  he  was  seen  to  sway  in 
his  seat  on  the  ridgepole,  and  only 
by  a  visible  effort  of  the  wnll  saved 
himself  from  falling. 

He  had  the  strength  of  a  lion,  but  he 
was  a  lion  in  torture,  blinded  by  smoke, 


172  Robins  Recrtiit. 

and  with   the  breath   of   the  fire  in  his 
nostrils. 

Odd  thoughts  were  his  up  there  with 
the  flames  and  the  danger.  Bits  of  his 
past  life  flew  past  him  like  scenes  in  a 
panorama.  It  had  been  full  of  errors, 
and  he  had  been  pitiably  weak,  but  he 
was  strong  now,  and  he  meant  to  hold 
in  check  those  furious  flames.  He 
.  clinched  his  teeth,  and  poured  bucket 
after  bucket  of  water  over  the  roof.  If 
his  strength  would  only  last  till  the  pow- 
der was  removed,  it  was  all  he  asked  or 
cared  for. 

Snatches  of  Robin's  favorite  poems 
came  to  him,  one  line  in  particular 
humming  itself  over  and  over  in  his 
brain, — 

"  Theirs  but  to  do,  and  die." 

Oh,    if    his   strength    would    only    last! 
but  it  was  going  —  going. 


Da7zger.  1 73 

There  was  a  crash,  as  the  roof  of  the 
quartermaster's  building  fell  in.  There 
were  continual  explosions,  as  at  leneth 
the  flames  reached  the  cans  of  oil  stored 
there.  There  was  the  ferocious  roarins; 
and  tearing  of  the  flames,  with  bursts  of 
black,  blinding  smoke,  and  through  it 
all   the  sound  of  hoarse  voices  below. 

Finally  the  men  at  the  foot  of  the 
ladder   shouted   to   him, — 

"  The  powder  is  out.  Come  down, 
come  down !  " 

And  utterly  exhausted,  he  tumbled 
like  a  log  into  their  outstretched  arms. 

Was  he  dead  or  living,  the  poor, 
brave  boy,  —  their  deliverer  .^  The  weak, 
shameless  young  soldier,  who  had  yet  in 
this  extremity  risen  to  such  an  act  of 
grandeur. 

They  laid  him  on  the  ground,  and, 
gathering    around,  looked  at   him  with 


174  Robins  Recruit. 

grateful  eyes  and  lips  generous  of  praise. 
But  he  hardly  saw  or  heard  them,  only 
as  they  lifted  him  again,  and  moved 
slowly  toward  the  hospital,  one  voice,  the 
softest  of  all,  reached  his  dull  ear,  and  for 
an  instant  one  face  in  that  waving  mass 
of  faces  grew  distinct.  Smiling  through 
his  pain,  he  waved  his  hand  to  Robin. 

All  that  human  skill  could  do  was 
done  for  Doogan,  but  too  long  he  had 
breathed  that  heated  air  to  make  recov- 
ery possible.  The  surgeons  believed 
that  he  would  not  live  throuo^h  the  niorht. 

At  midnight  he  beckoned  to  Dr. 
Bemis,  and  spoke  to  him. 

"  Tell  him,"  he  gasped,  "  tell  the  little 
kid  I  was  glad  it  turned  out  jest  so.  Tell 
him  I  'm  sure  now  never  to  break  my 
promise  to  him.  Yes,  tell  him  't  was  the 
^;2/k  way,  and  —  I   wasn't  sorry.     He's 


Daiiger.  175 

been  the  only  friend  I  ever  had,  but  I 
want  you  to  say  that  I  hope  he  won't  feel 
bad  nor  fret  an'  work  amn  his  srettin' 
well,  nor  yet  ter  forgit  me  altogether. 
I  'd  like  to  have  seen  his  little  face  once 

more,  but  you  '11  tell    him    good-by  fer 

•>■) 
me. 

He  spoke  only  once  again,  when  just 
before  he  died  he  tried  to  raise  his  hand, 
—  the  great  right  hand  that  had  been  so 
powerful,  — and  it  fell  feebly  back  ao-ain 
on  the  mattress. 

"  My  strength  's  clear  gone,"  he  whis- 
pered ;  "  I  Ve  took  a  notion  it 's  a-goin' 
now  to  the  little  kid,  an'  I  'm  glad,  fer 
he  '11  use  it  better  'n  I  could.  The  little 
kid  is  a-goin'  to  git  w^ll." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

CONCLUSION. 

TT  was  the  day  after  Doogan  was 
buried  that  Robin  left  Fort  Carey. 
Those  who  saw  his  sad,  white  face  at 
the  ambulance  window  on  the  morning 
that  the  Clancys  started  for  the  north, 
prophesied  that  he  never  would  be 
brought  back  to  the  regiment  again.  In- 
deed, at  the  beginning  of  that  long  jour- 
ney he  seemed  so  weak  that  many  times 
his  mother  and  Susannah  regretted  ever 
having  undertaken  it ;  but  each  day  he 
erew  strono-er.  He  was  but  a  child,  and 
though  he  deeply  mourned  his  friend,  he 
was  interested  in  new  scenes  and  faces. 
At  Galveston  they  took  the  steamer  for 


Conclusion.  1 7  7 

New  York ;  and  the  fresh  sea-air,  so  dif- 
ferent from  the  dry,  heated  atmosphere 
of  Carey,  sent  a  current  of  fresh  life 
bounding  through  Robin's  veins. 

Dr.  Bern  is  had  faithfully  reported  to 
him  Doogan's  last  words  and  messages, 
which  made  a  deep  impression  on  his 
childish  mind.  Each  mornins^  on  wak- 
ing,  as  he  smiled  up  into  his  mother's 
face  bent  over  his  berth,  he  would  say,  — 

"  A  g^reat  deal  more  of  dear  Dooo^an's 
strensfth  came  to  me  last  nio^ht.  I  shall 
try  to  use  it  well  for  him." 

A  few  weeks  before  this  story  was 
written,  and  some  years  after  the  events 
which  it  relates  took  place,  as  the  band 
was  playing  gayly  at  inspection  on  the 
parade-ground  at  Fort  Carey,  a  young 
man  in  a  lieutenant's  uniform  rode  out 
of  the  eastern  gate,  and  made  his  way 


12 


178  Robins  Recruit, 

toward  what  is  called  the  soldiers'  grave- 
yard. He  was  a  finely  built  young  fellow 
of  unusual  strength  and  beauty. 

This  officer  was  none  other  than  Robin 
or  Robert  Clancy,  who  had  just  graduated 
from  West  Point,  and  was  stationed  at 
Fort  Sam  Houston  at  San  Antonio. 
He  had  just  obtained  leave  of  absence 
for  a  couple  of  days  to  come  to  Fort 
Carey,  for  the  first  time  since  childhood, 
to  visit  the  grave  of  one  he  called  a  dear 
friend. 

As  he  rode  along,  instead  of  the  chap- 
arral spreading  out  under  the  pleasant 
morning  sunshine,  he  saw  the  grimy 
but  splendid  figure  of  Doogan  outlined 
against  flames. 

"  If,  as  they  say,  I  have  unusual  suc- 
cess in  managing  men,  it  is  because  of 
him,"  the  young  lieutenant  thought,  as 
at  last  he  looked  down  at  the  name  on 


Conclusion,  179 

the  rough,  unhewn  stone  that  marked 
the  resting-place  of  Robin's  recruit. 
''  Who  that  witnessed  his  splendid  cour- 
age, his  grand  fidelity,  at  that  crowning 
moment  of  his  poor  life,  could  for  a 
moment  lose  faith  in  human  nature? 
Such  a  sacrifice  cannot  have  been  in 
vain." 


THE    END- 


Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers'  Juveniles. 


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